Armello: War for the Throne
by RotWyld
Summary: Corruption sweeps through the kingdom of Armello. The King, who once united the warring clans, has fallen to madness. A call goes out for heroes to save the realm. After years of peace the clans prepare for war once again. The war for the throne has begun...
1. Chapter 1- A Wolf's Hunt

So this is my first try at writing fanfiction. I'm going to attempt to stick to official lore as much as possible, but there'll be plenty of my own headcanon to fill in the gaps. It probably mostly won't gel with the developers' vision, and for that I apologise to Trent Kusters (undisputed lord and master of the world of Armello) but I'll work with what I've got. But what the hell, that's what fanfic's for.

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

 **A Wolf's Hunt**

 _Moon shine upon you, Thane. The elders grow restless. A dark scent taints the air. We suspect dark forces at work. We suspect the Rot. A Wolf Clan knight awaits you by the gates of Southbank. He has reported evidence of Rat Clan activity. Perhaps they are behind the taint. We have sent a guide to lead you to the settlement. Though a talkative fellow, he's a seasoned explorer, and will serve you well. May your blade strike true._

 _Snowstrider Greymane, Den Mother_

Thane refolded the letter, his eyes once again scanning the seal; dark blue wax, stamped with a wolf standing rampant. The thin carpet of snow crunched softly under his feet as he strode across the courtyard of Stonehold Castle, grey-white walls and spires rising around him as if to pierce the blue and gold skies.

The castle gates were already open and a small mouse was leading a pair of horses out of the stables. He wore simple clothes under a thick blue and red travel cloak. Most remarkable though was how he was able to stand under the weight of his numerous leather bags and pouches, and other gear including digging tools, a spyglass, and a curved shortsword.

The mouse turned to wave to Thane as the young wolf approached. "Hi Thane! Hi!" He called out excitedly, "Did the Den Mother tell you about me? Did she? I know she did! I see her letter."

Thane raised an eyebrow at the lively mouse, "You're my guide?"

"That I am sir!" He snapped off a sharp salute, then extended a hand, "I'm Sil. Sil Treadmore. Expert adventurer, explorer extraordinaire! I've been to just about everywhere, wherever you want to go I can show you the best way to get there."

Thane gingerly shook Sil's hand, "Nice to meet you...I'm headed to Southbank, think you can get me there by tomorrow?"

"Of course sir, let's go. Yay!" With a delighted whoop Sil bounded into the saddle and spurred his horse through the gates at a fast canter.

Thane shook his head and sighed. He unslung his sword belt from his shoulder. _Grimfrost_ , his father's longsword- _his_ sword, Thane reminded himself-felt heavy as he buckled it about his waist; the weight of responsibility a greater burden than mere steel. Satisfied, he mounted his horse and followed Sil out of the gates and away from the castle.

He caught up to Sil in the castle town. Wolves lined the street to either side to see them off, cheering and waving. "Southbank is to the north west." The mouse said as Thane drew up alongside him, "It's a lovely trip! This is gonna be great!"

The pair left Stonehold and rode out into the Fleetfoot Hills. "It's an honour to work with the Winter Wolf." Sil chattered, "I saw you fight in the tournament at Swiftbridge last year. I never would have thought someone as young as you would hold their ground against a Knight of the Rose."

Thane laughed, "Thank you. Though I think Sir Siegmeir is still more than a match for me."

"You're still one of the best swordsmen in the clan."

"I am now." Thane absentmindedly gripped _Grimfrost_ 's pommel.

Sil paused for a moment. "I'm sorry for everything that's happened. Your father, your brother...But I'm sure you'll make a fine leader for the Iron Tribe-for the clan. That's why the Den Mother has been giving you jobs like this, to prove yourself."

"I hope you're right."

As the day progressed the rolling hills around the pair rose higher into the foothills of Highvale Peak. "Woah!" Sil exclaimed as he stared up at the rocky incline, "Look at those mountains! I mean I've seen bigger. But wow! They'll take ages to cross!"

"We'll have to lead the horses through." Thane muttered, dismounting from his steed.

"Aw, you want me to walk over _that_?"

Thane grinned, "Sil Treadmore, explorer extraordinaire is scared of a little hike?"

"I didn't say scared...I've just got little legs."

* * *

Night was falling when Thane crested the peak of the mountain. He turned to watch as his straggling companion arrived a few moments later, puffing loudly. "Can we rest?" Sil gasped, "My feet hurt."

"Fine." Thane replied with a chuckle. "We may as well camp here for a few hours. But I still want to reach Southbank by dawn." Looking down into the vale on the far side of the mountain he could already see the distant lights of the settlement starting to flicker to life.

After hobbling and feeding the horses near a small spring Sil helped Thane to set up camp from the abundant supplies he carried with him. Before long they were sat beneath a makeshift shelter, a cookfire pushing back the encroaching twilight.

"So what's waiting for us in Southbank?" Sil asked.

"A knight. One of Greymane's agents. Investigating Rat Clan activity."

Sil scoffed, "The rats are always plotting something. It's probably no cause for concern. If it does come to anything then the King is sure to put a stop to it."

"Probably...But if the elders suspicions are true then we can't afford for it to come to anything."

Sil leaned closer, "What's this really about?"

"The Rot."

The mouse spluttered on a mouthful of stew. "The wha-?! B-b-but I thought the Rot was sealed away years ago!"

"I know. Father used to tell me stories about the last war. All I can say for sure is that I never want to see that for myself." He leaned back with a sigh, "Well, maybe it'll be nothing after all."

"And what if it is?"

Thane gave the explorer a wry smile, "Then you and I are going to save the kingdom."

* * *

The pair broke camp after a few hours rest. The descent was easier, down from the mountain and into the Onyx Hollow. They remounted the horses and picked their way between the black trunks of the tightly packed trees, their path lit by a lantern that Sil helpfully produced.

Some time later the lights of Southbank appeared through the trees and before long the trunks and underbrush thinned out, and the settlement's walls rose up out of the darkness.

"Here we are sir." Sil said. "And in good time too."

"Still some time before dawn. This knight of ours should be waiting near the gates." Thane reined in his horse at the stables. Inside the town he could make out a wide dirt road lit by street lamps, a few townsfolk going to and fro between the buildings.

"There's an inn a little way down the road from here." Sil said as he dismounted, "We'll probably find him there."

There was a sudden commotion from the direction Sil had indicated and a grey robed figure burst out from a knot of people, face hidden by a hood, a blood stained knife clutched in one hand and a satchel slung over a shoulder. The figure made a dash for the gates, leaving a shocked crowd in their wake. A moment later a plump hamster wearing a yellow and black doublet and an iron half helm appeared from the doorway of the inn and gave chase.

The hamster spotted Thane and called out, "Thane! Stop him!"

Thane leaped clear of the saddle, landing in a crouch in front of the fleeing figure who tried to dodge past, clumsily swinging his knife at the wolf's ribs. Thane's left hand flicked out, pushing away the assailant's wrist, his right wrapping around the hilt of his sword. He struck out with _Grimfrost_ 's pommel as he half drew the sword, and the robed figure doubled up under the blow with a grunt. Thane scrabbled to grasp his opponent, his fingers closing on the strap of the satchel, but before he could land another attack the robed figure twisted away and pulled free, vanishing into the darkness. Thane was left with sword still half drawn; the satchel hanging from his other hand upended itself, spilling a loosely bound sheaf of paper onto the ground.

The hamster skidded to a halt before Thane, panting, "If only you'd got here sooner! That beast attacked while we waited for you. He killed Sir Heimdall!"

"That's our contact Thane!" Sil whispered.

"He's dead?" Thane asked, aghast.

Heimdall's squire wailed dramatically, "Misery! Tragedy! Woe! How can I go on?" She paused briefly, "Oh well. You looking for a squire?"

Thane gaped at her, "That was...sudden?"

Sil nudged him, "She could come in handy, Thane."

Thane shook himself, "Alright, you can come with us. Consider it a service to Sir Heimdall."

The squire perked up immediately, "I have a new master! Pika Potts at your service, sir. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth!" She stretched and yawned expansively, "Right after a nap. I need sleep."

"And my feet still hurt." Sil agreed.

* * *

Thane had spent the remainder of the night in the room that Heimdall had hired at the inn. When the sun rose he went to see off the cart that carried the knight's casket, draped in a Wolf Clan banner-black on blue. The cart was headed for the Ash Tribe's castle town at Highwatch.

"Would you care to say a few words, Lord Thane?" The cart's driver, an old dog, asked him.

Thane placed a hand on the casket, "I regret I couldn't have met you. But I know you served the clan with honour, with valor. Pack strong."

"Sir?" Thane turned to see Pika approaching, carrying a large, overstuffed pack. "I gathered up some of my master's supplies. I'm sure they'll be useful."

Thane drew in a deep a breath, glancing at the cart as it pulled away before turning back to the squire. "Thank you, Pika."

"Let's get going. You should look through the journals you recovered."

Thane retrieved the papers that the attacker had dropped during the struggle and scanned through the hastily scribbled notes. Mostly it just seemed like the ravings of a madman; including some particularly vivid imagery about a rising tide of worms and clawing, throttling brambles. He flipped to the last few pages. There was some mention of coming into possession of a poppet, a powerful tool of black magic, and suspicions about Heimdall's arrival in Southbank. Finally he found a passage about a camp set up in a stone circle somewhere to the north of town.

"Hey, Sil." Thane waved the mouse over, "Know where this is?"

Sil cocked his head, "Sounds like The Whisperers. We could get there pretty quickly through the Sunken Wetlands."

"Good. We're going after that killer. If we can get our hands on that poppet it could help with the investigation."

"Alright then, let's go. We're crossing a swamp today. Tough walk. We might pick up a scratch or two."

Thane and his companions left Southbank and rode north to the edge of the swamp. Once there they were once again forced to dismount and travel on foot. Sil traversed the marshland with the ease of someone well suited to such terrain. Thane was much less sure footed, tripping over several roots and gashing his thigh in a thicket of brambles. Meanwhile, Pika made it through with no more than being covered in mud from head to toe after stumbling into a pool of stagnant water, from which the others had to drag her.

Thane was thankful when his feet found solid ground once more. He could see the standing stones of The Whisperers ahead, and already he could feel a tingling sensation in the air. The trace of something old, powerful. He glanced down and saw the cut on his leg close before his very eyes, leaving only a patch of blood stained fur.

They continued moving forward slowly until they reached the edge of the stone circle. Thane raised a hand, signalling for the others to wait. Dropping into a crouch he passed between the stones and entered the circle.

It was quiet. All was still. Thane looked around, sensing something was wrong. The circle was tainted; strange runes and sigils marked some of the stones, some roughly carved, others daubed in blood. Several smaller stones, or ones that had fallen over, had been used as alters to display symbols of dark magic. He saw skulls, horns and cracked bones, mounds of worms, some dried out in the sun others still fresh and wriggling, woven wreaths of bramble, thorns speckled with blood, and eviscerated crows, their entrails glistening wetly against the stone.

Thane's eyes narrowed as he heard a constant, low muttering. He slowly rounded another stone, hand reaching for his sword. The robed figure was there, knelt in the middle of a half dismantled camp, mumbling to himself as he frantically stuffed items into a pack. He stopped suddenly, sniffing at the air, and then as if sensing Thane's presence his head snapped around with a snarl. Thane could see the poppet clutched in one of the figure's hands, an unassuming doll made from twigs and tinder. In a split second the figure had swung the pack onto his back and sprinted for the treeline on the opposite side of the circle.

Thane went down onto all fours, every muscle driving him forward as he gave chase. He rapidly closed the gap, bearing down on his prey. Just as he was about to pounce, the robed figure spun. Thane caught the flash of a blade, and his head whipped sideways, a line of white hot pain burning across his cheek and muzzle. He howled, his body twisting mid-leap, sending him sprawling to the ground. When he raised his head the robed figure was already gone.

"Thane!" Thane turned to see Sil running toward him. "He got away! And he took the poppet with him!"

"I'll be honest." Pika said, leading the horses into the circle, "I'm glad we didn't find it. I don't want anything to do with the Rot." She looked around, "Let's set up camp. We can start trying to track him down tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're right." Thane grunted as Sil helped him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" The mouse looked at him worriedly.

Thane pressed a hand to his cheek. The wound stung, and his palm came away slick with blood, but it was only a shallow cut. "I'll live." He grinned, "You still think I'm handsome, right?"

Sil sighed, "Just help me clear this place up will you? This stuff gives me the creeps."

* * *

It was dark when Thane was shaken awake, the stars shining down coldly from the clear sky and the embers of their campfire glowing softly. He sat up as Pika's face swam into view. "What is it?"

"I think I saw something, sir. Out there." She pointed out beyond the ring of firelight to the edge of the circle.

Thane rose quietly, retrieving his sword belt from where it lay beside his bedroll. He nudged Sil with his foot, the mouse letting out a little snort before uncurling slowly.

Thane crept to the edge of the circle, one hand on _Grimfrost_ 's hilt. As he peered into the darkness a shape appeared and began to take form. A King's Guard emerged from the shadows, armour gleaming in the moonlight, short blue and gold cape billowing behind him. The unnervingly blank hound-face helm, topped with a blue plume, stared eyelessly, directly at Thane. The halberd that he carried on one shoulder swung casually as he planted the haft against the ground.

"Thane of the Wolf Clan!" The voice rang out deep and hollow from the guard's helmet, "Hand over the poppet or be slain by order of the King!"

"This is crazy!" Pika gasped, "We don't even have the poppet!"

The guard remained unmoved, lowering his stance slightly.

"Why are the King's Guard attacking?" Sil asked, "We've done nothing wrong! This is madness."

The guard pounced, the head of his halberd aimed at Thane's neck. Thane stepped forward to meet the attack, deflecting it with _Grimfrost_ as he drew the sword from its sheath. He riposted, bringing his sword down against the guard's pauldron hard enough to leave a dent. The guard pushed the blade away with the haft of his halberd. Thane dodged back away from the hefty oaken shaft as it swung out at him, then sidestepped an overhead strike. He flicked his sword up at the guard's extended arm, his blade finding the gap between pauldron and gauntlet, and biting into the mail there.

The guard grunted and backed away. He still held his weapon ready but the grip had weakened in his right hand, and the point of the halberd dipped and wavered. Thane readied himself to attack again, tightening his grip on hilt and pommel, when his eyes were drawn to a second King's Guard materialising out of the darkness.

The second guard charged at him, halberd lowered. Thane swung his sword low to deflect the attack, then spun on his heel and guarded high to parry the return swing. He slammed the crossguard of his sword against his attacker's helm, ringing it like a bell. He drew his arm back to hack at the guard's gorget, when he felt the haft of the hound's weapon impact against his knee. He staggered, saw the point of the halberd levelled at his chest and thrust his arm out to try and grab at the weapon.

There was a thud and the air was pushed from Thane's lungs in a pained gasp. He looked down to see his hand grasping the halberd just below the axe head. The six inch steel spike that topped the polearm had punched through the side of his brigandine and the mail hauberk beneath, driving itself between his ribs.

He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming, giving ground as the guard put more weight behind the halberd, his grip sliding on the haft as he tried to maintain the distance between himself and the hound.

"Thane!" He heard Pika shriek. The plucky squire ran straight at the guard and kicked him hard in the shin. The guard seemed more annoyed than hurt but the distraction was enough for Thane to pull himself free. His body sagged and was caught by Sil.

"Run!" The mouse cried, supporting the much larger wolf and half dragging him toward the cover of the forest. Pika caught up to them a few moments later. Behind them, one guard supported himself on his halberd, right arm held tight against his chest, the other kicked angrily at the remains of the campfire.

"This isn't good!" Pika murmured as they ran, "We'll have a bounty now! The King's Guard will hunt us down."

"We need to figure out a plan." Sil agreed, "Fast."


	2. Chapter 2- A Rat's Tale

Mercurio's introductory chapter will be split into two parts to keep it from getting too long. And hopefully to also build suspense.

Also important note; the new cover picture for the story was taken from the League of Geeks store page on redbubble. I would credit the artist but I haven't been able to find a name attached to it.

* * *

 **A Rat's Tale**

 _Hail Mercurio. Our ears within the royal palace hear of secret plans. Thane seems to think much of his abilities. He hunts for tools of the Rot. The King has laid a trap for him. A bounty will be placed on his head. A bounty which we expect you to claim. Teach him the consequences of meddling with the Rot. Then find those tools for yourself. Nat Fennet, the spymaster, awaits you withing Southbank. Her skills will be of use to you. Good luck. Keep your blade sharp, and your tongue sharper. Remember, destroy this letter._

 _Festien_

Baron Mercurio of Bleakmarsh raised his eyes from the letter, a grin touching his lips. He rose from his desk, crumpling the paper and tossing it into the fireplace where it was quickly consumed. He strode out of his quarters, wrapping a cape around his shoulders as he went, red with gold trim, and fastened with a rose brooch. Finally he buckled on a sword belt; on his hip he wore an elegantly crafted sabre, _Rose_ , behind his back was sheathed a curved dagger, _Thorn_.

He stepped out of the manor house into the night. Above the doorway, lit by guttering torchlight, was a crimson banner. It bore a black rat balanced with one foot on a small golden sphere, holding out a gold-blooming rose, tail wrapped around the hilt of a golden sword.

Waiting near the stables was an orange and white furred cat with yellow, glowering eyes and a sly grin. He wore a white and purple tunic under a scarlet cape, and a red cap with a purple plume.

"Let's go!" The cat called out, "Time is money, Mercurio."

"Skeeve, if I didn't know you were such a scoundrel I'd think you actually cared about the Order's work." Mercurio chuckled, his voice honey.

"You work for the Order, I fund your little ventures, and I reap a share of the reward. It's called investment." Skeeve mounted his horse, "Well, you read Festien's letter. Let's go find that spymaster."

The pair left Bleakmarsh and rode across the Greenshade Plains, and through Lost Acorn Copse to Emerald Park by the western edge of Southbank. A small tent city had been erected across the plain, perhaps by a traveling circus or some other nomadic group.

Mercurio reined in his horse, "We should camp here for now, blend in among the others. Fennet can wait until the morning."

"Wait! I don't want to stop and rest without knowing where Thane is lurking."

Mercurio shrugged, "The wolf lordling is probably miles away by now. What are you so afraid of?"

"I'd rather not risk you losing your head in your sleep, friend. Keep in mind that I have a stake in your wellbeing now." Skeeve reached into his purse and retrieved a few coins. "Here, use this gold to hire rangers. Send them to scout around Duncastle. That's where he was last seen."

"If it makes you feel safer." Mercurio took the money and dismounted.

There was a ranger camp set up on the outskirts of town. As Mercurio approached he spotted a few rangers milling around, wrapped in their distinctive dark green cloaks. A lanky stoat came out to meet him.

"Help you stranger?" The ranger asked.

"I'd like a message sent to the ranger camp at Duncastle."

"That can be done. So long as you've got the coin for it."

"That won't be a problem." Mercurio smiled, pressing Skeeve's money into the ranger's palm.

The stoat glanced once at the gold, tossing a coin into the air and catching it again before pocketing the money. "And what would you like this message to say?"

"I'm interested in finding someone. The Winter Wolf. He should be somewhere in the forests around Duncastle."

The ranger raised an eyebrow, "Word is he's not too popular with the King right now. Is there anything else you'd like?"

"No, just find him. Report back to me when you get news."

"Very well, I'll find you."

When Mercurio returned to where he'd left Skeeve he found that the trader had set up a handsome pavilion of white silk, red and purple pennants fluttering in the breeze. "Planning to set up shop?"

Skeeve was perched on a crate near the front of the pavilion, flipping through an account book. "There's never a bad time to do business." He shut the book with a snap, "Dealt with the rangers?"

"If anyone can find Thane, they will. And you'll see that we have nothing worry about."

"This is quite a gamble Mercurio. If you're going to make an enemy of the Wolf Clan, maybe even the King, you'd best worry or have someone to worry for you."

Mercurio chuckled, settling on another crate, "Skeeve, by the time I'm done no clan, or the King himself, will stand in my way."

* * *

It was early the next morning when Skeeve woke Mercurio. "We have a visitor."

Mercurio grumbled as he rolled to his feet. He stepped outside the pavilion, shrugging into his waistcoat as he went. Outside he found the stoat from the night before. "News from Duncastle?"

"Thane was spotted in Duskflight Canopy, wounded and fleeing from the King's Guard. As per your instructions, he was left alone. That's all I have to report."

"Thank you friend." Mercurio shook the ranger's hand, "You've been a great help."

The ranger nodded and turned to leave. He went a few steps, then glanced back, "You may be interested to know, Thane managed to contact the rangers at Duncastle. Apparently he sent a message to some allies in Sprucevale. That's all I know."

Skeeve scratched at his ear, "Sprucevale? What is Thane up to?"

"Who knows?" Mercurio glanced past Skeeve, in the direction of the town gates, "For now, we may have bigger issues."

Skeeve turned to follow the rat's gaze. A column of King's Guards had appeared on the road. As they filed into the town their leader rode out into the tent city. "The settlement of Southbank is in lockdown by order of the King. We're looking for accomplices of the traitor Thane."

"Great." Mercurio kicked at the ground, "They locked down the settlement and we're stuck out here. It'll be bad if we draw the Guard's attention."

"No matter. Forget that for now. Thane is exposed. Let's claim that bounty!"

"Last night you were terrified of Thane returning to Southbank, now you're out for his blood." Mercurio shrugged, "It really is fascinating what wonders the promise of a little gold will work."

"Please, this isn't so petty as simple greed. We'll gain prestige in the kingdom by claiming the bounty on Thane's head. And I happen to know a few local crooks who will be happy to do our dirty work."

Mercurio considered for a moment. "Very well. You do what you need to. And while you're at it, think of a way inside the town."

* * *

Thane staggered along the mountain path, deeper into the Kingsmount Heights. His breath was heavy, his steps faltering. With his sword belt lost he was forced to carry _Grimfrost_ limply by his side. During their one brief rest since fleeing The Whisperers Pika had bandaged the wound in Thane's side. It still burned with pain, and he now bled from a fresh slash across his sword arm-inflicted during a skirmish in the early hours of the morning. They had not stopped running since that attack, and Thane felt sapped of all strength. Worse yet, they had been forced to abandon their horses and most of their supplies back at their camp in the stone circle.

Their one bit of good fortune had come from an encounter with a group of rangers near Duncastle. Thane had entrusted them with a message to Wolf Clan agents in Sprucevale. Based on the scribbled journal that Thane still carried it seemed that town was his best lead to continuing with his investigation.

Sil stumbled a little, still supporting Thane's weight. "So what's our plan now?"

"We have to reach Sprucevale." Thane muttered through gritted teeth. "It's a long walk. And I'll need some time to recover my strength."

"Are you sure you're alright? You're pretty badly hurt. Duncastle's not too far, we could head there, maybe try to find an apothecary."

"I'll be fine, trust me." Thane tried to grin, then grunted as another throb of pain shot through him.

"Don't worry sir!" Pika skipped along the path a little way ahead. With Thane in his current condition she had taken it upon herself to fight off any danger that presented itself. She bore what weapons she'd been able to scavenge from Sir Heimdall's supplies before leaving Southbank; a shining steel sword and a scratched, rusted iron shield coated with chipped blue paint. "As your trusty squire I'm sworn to protect you, no matter wha-"

An arrow sprouted from Pika's throat and she dropped with a squeak. Thane stopped short, eyes wide, Sil cowering by his side.

"Sorry about that!" A voice called out from behind a rocky outcrop a little way up the path, "Was aiming for the tall one."

A short, orange furred cat carrying a bow hopped over the boulders. He was quickly joined by three others-a mean looking weasel, a fox, and a big, one eyed otter. They all wore leather or quilted armour and worn, faded clothing.

The fox howled with laughter, "Did you see her face? Hah! Priceless."

Thane snarled, "You'll pay for that!"

The weasel stepped forward, "Oh? Who's going to make us? You? You don't look fit to fight a kitten, boy." He laughed.

"Who are you?" Sil stammered, "What do you want?"

The weasel shrugged, "Just think of us as messengers, here on behalf of Baron Mercurio of the Rat Clan."

Sil tugged at Thane's arm, "We have to go!"

"Just stay behind me." Thane pushed himself away from the mouse and raised _Grimfrost_.

The weasel flashed a cocky grin, "I was hoping you'd put up a fight. Get 'im lads!"

Thane moved before the bandits could act, lunging clumsily. The startled weasel barely twisted out of the way in time, and Thane's momentum carried him past his first target and into the midst of the gang. The cat, now face to face with Thane, scrambled to nock another arrow. Thane grabbed at the bow and brought the pommel of his sword down on top of the cat's head with a crack. The cat crumpled into a heap and lay still.

Thane turned, blade slashing at the fox. There was a flash of steel as the bandit drew a rapier, knocking _Grimfrost_ aside. Thane twisted, slamming his elbow into the fox's face, wincing as the blow jarred his injured arm. The otter came at him next, pulling a small battle axe from under his cloak. Thane swept his sword around in a wide arc, blocking the axe as it swung at him. Axe and sword locked together until, with a flick, _Grimfrost_ 's hilt slipped from Thane's grasp. The sword spun away, clattered to the ground and skated across the stone before dropping over a cliff. Thane gasped. He quickly backed away, eyes flicking between the stoic otter and the livid fox with his bloodied nose.

"Thane, look out!" Thane heard Sil's warning yell, but too late. An arm wrapped around his neck a second before the weasel plunged a knife into his back, twisting the blade.

"Game over, wolfy."

Thane dropped to his knees. His ears rang. He tasted blood.

"Thane!" Sil dived between Thane and the bandits, sword drawn and clutched in trembling hands. "Get away from him!"

"Aw, brave little mouse." The weasel cackled, knife flickering between his fingers, "You'll be fun."

"Sil...run..." Thane forced out.

"But-"

"Go!" Thane put the last of his strength into raising his voice to a commanding tone.

Sil whimpered, gaze passing from Thane to the bandits and back again. Finally he slowly backed away, then turned and fled.

Thane toppled over, rolling onto his back. His vision started to dim. He heard the weasel speak to the other bandits, "Let him go. We got what we came for." He bent over Thane, his face filling the wolf's sight. "The Winter Wolf...Hah! I'm almost disappointed. But still, you're going to make ri-"

There was a soft thud. The weasel cut off abruptly and looked away, knife raised, as Thane's vision faded faded to black...

* * *

The sun was high above the tent city when Skeeve approached the table where Mercurio sat. The rat had been killing time playing dice with some other travelers. Spotting Skeeve, he collected his winnings from the table, "Thank you for your time, gentlemen. Maybe we'll play again some time." He scooped his dice into a cup. With just a flick of the wrist they were a familiar weight tucked away in his sleeve, replaced by an identical set. He set the cup back on the table and pushed himself to his feet.

"Anything?" He asked Skeeve once they were out of earshot.

"Still waiting for news." The trader replied.

"What about the other matter we discussed?" Mercurio glanced at the town gates where a pair of guardsmen patrolled. "If I have to wait any longer I'm likely to stab my way in."

"Don't attack the King's Guard! We'll end up with a bounty too. I, for one, would rather avoid that."

"You have a better idea?"

"While you were out here playing games I managed to get in contact with some serious underworld figures inside the town. They helped me organise some false orders." The cat held up a roll of paper. It was sealed with gold wax, stamped with what looked very much like the royal lion-head seal.

Mercurio grinned, "You never fail to impress me."

The pair approached the town gates. As they got closer they heard pounding footseps and ragged breath. Mercurio turned to see the source of the commotion. "Hm. Interesting..."

He watched as a short mouse pelted past, heading straight for the gates. One of the guards there planted his feet, raising one hand to stop the interloper. "Halt! This settlement is under lockdown, no one goes in or out. Royal orders."

The mouse skidded to a halt, wheezing, "It's...it's an...emergency! Th-thane, the Winter Wolf-he's d-dead!"

The guardsmen glanced at each other. "You saw this?"

The mouse nodded frantically, "He was attacked...by bandits. They said they were sent sent by a-a...Baron Mercurio."

Mercurio gave Skeeve a sidelong look, "Looks like this is our moment." He sidled up to the guards. "That would be me. I claim the bounty on the wolf's head."

The mouse gaped at Mercurio. His hand twitched near the hilt of the shortsword he wore, but he seemed to think better of it, eyes flicking between the rat and the guardsmen.

One of the guards looked back at his companion, who nodded. He turned back to Mercurio, "Thane of the Wolf Clan was an enemy of the kingdom. As such, please accept this reward for his death." The hound produced a small leather bag that clinked as he handed it to Mercurio. "You have the King's thanks."

The other guard shifted his grip on his halberd, eyeing the mouse, "You. I'd like to know what you were doing with a traitor to the crown."

Mercurio smoothly stepped between mouse and hound, "I'm sure the lad was just a clueless bystander who witnessed the attack." He gave the mouse a pointed look, "You can go."

The mouse gulped. He took the hint and turned tail, fleeing back the way he had come.

"If that's all then please return to the tent city. Southbank will remain in lockdown until our investigation here is complete."

"Actually, as luck would have it we were sent here from the capital to pass a message on to your squad." Mercurio waved Skeeve forward. The trader handed the letter he carried to one of the guards.

The hound glanced at the seal before breaking it and unfurling the paper. "Thank you, citizens." He quickly scanned the letter, then turned to his companion, "Wolf Clan agents were spotted leaving the town under cover of darkness. Apparently they were headed for Grimwatch Peak. Spread the word, we're moving out."

The other guard nodded, and they both turned and marched through the gates.

"Worked like a charm." Skeeve grinned.

"Yes, everything seems to be coming up just fine." They entered the bustling town, spotting a few guards begin to assemble as they prepared to leave. "I was hoping for a body, but this works too."

"I'm sure my friends will turn up sooner or later. Probably just celebrating a job well done. Though why bother letting that runty mouse go? Would have been fun to see the King's Guard drag him away."

"For such a talented entrepreneur, you really have no tact. Thane's friend just scored us that bounty, while your 'friends' are nowhere to be found. I _could_ have let the Guard have their way with him, but it wouldn't have been polite."

The pair located the tavern where they were supposed to meet with the spymaster. It was busy inside. Mercurio scanned the crowd but couldn't make out any familiar faces. They found a deserted table in a shady corner.

Skeeve glowered into a mug of ale. "Well, what now?"

Mercurio unfastened his cape, holding the rose brooch between thumb and finger. He closed his eyes, twirling the brooch between his fingers, and started to whistle. _Fair Dawn o'er Marsh_ was an old Rat Clan marching tune, one he was sure someone would only recognise if they were listening for such a signal. The melody carried across the low buzz of voices that filled the tavern.

After only a few notes Mercurio was cut off by a voice from behind him, "Information comes at a cost, Mercurio." A sleek furred, amber eyed fox slid into a chair across the table. She wore a red cloak, hood pulled low over face.

Mercurio opened his eyes slowly, "Nat Fennet."

Skeeve propped his chin on one fist flashing a casual smile. "Would it cost as much as a good drink? I'm sure we could afford it for someone as pretty as you."

Nat gave the trader a long, deadpan stare. She slowly reached out a hand, grasped Skeeve's tankard and slid it towards herself. "Thank you." She turned back to Mercurio, leaving Skeeve to sigh deeply, fingers drumming on the table. "I hear you're hunting wolves."

"You must hear a lot. Heard anything about where a certain Wolf Clan prince was headed before he had an...unfortunate accident?"

The spymaster spread her hands on the tabletop, "According to some sources, Thane was heading to the Winterhorn Mountains near Sprucevale."

"Sprucevale..." Mercurio stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Thane was working with someone there."

"That could complicate things. Give me some time to speak to my contacts. Rest here for a while." She took a long gulp from Skeeve's tankard, then smiled brightly at the scowling cat.


	3. Chapter 3- A Rat's Scheme

Sorry about the long wait everyone, I've been working on a different project that's kept me busy for the last month or two. But now I'm back and hoping to focus on this for the next few chapters.

* * *

 **A Rat's Scheme**

He awoke to pain. A dull, searing pain that pierced his chest, his back, his arm. Pain was good. It meant he wasn't dead yet. Thane groaned and slowly opened his eyes. From what he could make out of his surroundings, he appeared to be lying on the ground inside a dimly lit cave. If he raised his head he could see the mouth of the cave, but outside was too dark to see anything. He was lying on a bedroll and wrapped in a thick blanket. Pushing the blanket aside, he saw fresh dressings on his wounds.

"You're finally awake."

The voice made Thane look up. Through his blurry vision a face swam into focus; a grey and white furred wolf. She wore scaled armour of red leather under a blue cloak with a thick, white fur collar. The brooch that fastened the cloak was shaped like the eight-pointed star of the Iron Tribe that Thane wore on his brigantine, though he knew she wasn't Iron born.

"You...You're...River?" He remembered now. The daughter of the Snow Tribe's Chieftain, River the Howling Arrow. They had met a few times, often at tournaments. Whereas Thane excelled at dueling, River had taken to archery and was a champion renowned for her aim.

"Good of you to remember."

"What are you doing here?" Thane looked back down at his body, then quickly pulled the blanket back over himself, "And where are my clothes?"

River rolled her eyes and turned away. "I was in Sprucevale when your letter arrived. It sounded like you were in trouble so I came looking for you. You're lucky I found you when I did."

"Thank you." Thane mumbled.

River rounded on him again, "How could you be so reckless? You're the only heir to your tribe, Thane, you could succeed your father as High Chieftain of the entire clan! What if you'd been killed? What are the High Council going to think?"

Thane sighed, "It was supposed to be an easy job. Go to Southbank, meet Heimdall, investigate the Rat Clan."

"So what in the Wyld's name went wrong?"

"We were attacked by the King's Guard."

River blinked, taken aback, "...What? Why?"

"I..." Thane shook his head, "I don't know. But apparently I've been branded a traitor."

"I don't understand, the King wouldn't order something like that."

Thane shrugged, "There's something more going on here. Snowstrider was right, something is very wrong."

"Well, let's ask her about it. I'm taking you back to Stonehold. Do you think you can walk?"

"Yeah." Thane pushed himself up into a sitting position with a grunt, "I'll be fine."

"Good. Get ready." River dropped Thane's belonging's in a pile by his side and walked toward the mouth of the cave.

Thane stood, a little unsteadily, and quickly dressed. He pulled his hauberk over his head, letting the long mail shirt drop onto his shoulders, followed by his brigantine. Finally he buckled on his sword belt, one hand lingering on the empty sheath at his hip.

"My sword?" He asked.

River turned back to face him again, shaking her head. "I didn't find it where you were attacked. Sorry."

Thane snarled, his fist lashed out and struck against the rough stone wall, "Damn it! I couldn't even keep that safe." He shook his head dejectedly, "The elders are right, I'm not fit to lead the Iron Tribe, let alone the Clan."

River sighed and grasped the fur at the back of Thane's neck, her harsh grip almost painful. "Thane, normally I'd agree. However, I came out here expecting to help the son of the late High Chieftain, and now I learn that I'm harbouring a fugitive from the King. I don't know why, and neither do you, but what I do know is that we can not stay here much longer. So please stop feeling sorry for yourself and come along or I'm leaving you here to die."

Thane stared into her eyes. She held his gaze, unblinking. Eventually he relented, "Alright, let's move." He shrugged off her hand and walked to the mouth of the cave. Behind him River hurriedly packed up their small camp and doused the fire.

* * *

Mercurio strode down the stairs into the tavern, yawning expansively. He located Nat and Skeeve and dropped into a chair by their table. "Would you care to tell me why you've woken me at this hour?"

Nat sat back, eyes closed, "Thane's alive." She said casually.

Mercurio immediately rounded on Skeeve, glaring.

The trader recoiled slightly, then straightened and slammed a fist on the table. "I'm telling you, that's not possible!"

"Then maybe you can explain why he was spotted heading back to Stonehold in the company of a Snow Tribe huntress."

"My contacts-"

"Dead."

"How?" Mercurio growled.

Nat shrugged, "Snow Tribe huntress."

Mercurio took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "What now?"

The spymaster opened her eyes and leaned forward, planting both elbows on the table and steepling her fingers under her chin, "Thane's alive, but not unscathed. He'll hole up in his fortress and lick his wounds. Once he's recovered he'll resume making his way to the Winterhorn Mountains."

Skeeve scratched his ear, "I'm inclined to interfere with his plans. But it'll be difficult while he's on the move."

"That's no problem. We simply act where we know he'll be."

"Fine." Skeeve nodded, folding his arms, "I have a few other contacts in town-"

Nat held up a hand, "No. I know some mercenaries we can hire, men who'll actually get the job done." She shot a pointed look at Skeeve. "They can lie in wait in the Fleetfoot Hills. That'll cut Thane off from the mountains."

"Well, it ought to slow him down at least." Skeeve muttered.

Mercurio nodded, "Take care of it. And as for our own plans," He glanced between the cat and fox, "I trust you have _something_."

Nat grinned, "I've heard whispers." She lowered her voice, leaning closer, "I know where we must go. This Rot tool, the one Thane's been chasing after, I've managed to track the thief who stole it. He was last seen climbing Winterhorn."

"That explains Thane's interest in that area." Mercurio mused, "We need to get there before he does."

"I have a source in Sprucevale, a miner. She knows those peaks well."

"Then we'd best leave at once."

"I thought the same thing." Skeeve tapped his temple, then produced a map and unfurled it on the table. "While you were sleeping I went to speak with a local strategist. For a few leos he was more than happy to mark a route that'll get us to Sprucevale before dawn."

Mercurio studied the map, tracing the marked route with one finger. "Well done Skeeve. It seems you may still have your uses after all."

"I'm hurt that you'd ever doubt me." Skeeve stood with a slight bow, "By your leave, Baron."

* * *

The trio left Southbank and entered the Onyx Hollow, travelling between the still trunks and on into The Shadowglen. The eastern horizon was beginning to brighten as they rode out from the forest and onto Moss Meadow. Sprucevale loomed ahead of them, a dark shadow sprawling at the foot of the Winterhorn Mountains, the lights atop the walls burning low.

Skeeve pulled up alongside Mercurio, "Remember, Thane may have set a trap up ahead. We'll be walking right into it, but there's no other option."

They continued on to the town, reigned in their horses at the stable and entered.

Mercurio adjusted his sword belt as he looked around, "Nat, take the lead. Skeeve, keep an eye out for trouble."

Nat led them off the main road and down a shady alley into a network of narrow back streets. "It seems this town's under curfew. It'd be best if we weren't spotted roaming the streets."

They passed by a few others in the twilight of Sprucevale's alleyways, loitering in ones or twos, or in ragged groups. Many had their faces shrouded by hoods, those who didn't wore bitter, worn looks, haunted eyes watching from the shadows. Most shrank away from the sight of the three newcomers, others stood straighter, tense, but none tried to impede them.

They were passing by one such cluster of miscreants when a motion caught Mercurio's eye. Among the faces he spotted a scrawny black and white cat dressed in dull coloured and loose fitting clothes. He slowed his pace, eyes narrowing, watching. The cat held his gaze, pale eyes flashing. Then a flicker of movement as the cat rushed straight for him. Mercurio barely had time to react, reaching for the hilt of his sword. The cat ducked under his sword arm before he could draw the sabre. He felt a tug at his belt and spun on his heel, steel flashing as his dagger whipped around, slicing the air. The cat somersaulted backwards, dodging the strike, and danced away. She fled into another alley and, with a single glance back over her shoulder, climbed straight up, bouncing from wall to wall until she disappeared over a parapet and vanished.

Skeeve ran a few paces after the thief before turning back, scowling, "She stole your adventurer's kit. I had my lunch in there!"

Mercurio rammed _Thorn_ back into its sheath and grabbed the trader by his tunic. "That doesn't matter! Just let it go!" He shoved Skeeve away and rounded on Nat, "These setbacks are starting to agitate me. This miner had better be worth it."

Nat held up her hands, "It's not far from here, lower your voice and follow me."

Mercurio looked around to see that they were now alone, the bystanders having melted away into the darkness. He snorted and nodded, indicating Nat to lead on.

A few minutes later Nat led them out onto the corner of a wider street. She pointed to the other side of the road. "That's the place."

"Alright, let's go." Skeeve stepped out into the road. Mercurio quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the shadows.

"Wait!" The rat pointed down the street to where a King's Guard was patrolling. "I'll handle this."

"She'll be expecting you." Nat whispered, "Knock twice by the handle, wait three seconds, then once by the top hinge."

Mercurio nodded and crouched low, eyeing the guard as he made his slow approach. Just as the hound was about to pass by their hiding spot, Mercurio burst from cover, softly pattering across the cobbles, just out of sight. He skimmed past the guard's back, close enough to touch, and was across the street.

He knocked on the door of the miner's house as Nat had instructed. A few seconds of silence passed, followed by the sound of a bolt being drawn back and then the door swung open. Inside stood a grey haired goat, tall and burly, dressed in a roughspun green cloak. She glanced up and down the street, then stepped back. Mercurio turned and waved for the others to follow. They hurried across the road and into the house. The rat followed, pulling the door shut behind him.

They found themselves in a small, stone walled kitchen. There was a simple wooden table in one corner, and comfy chairs surrounded the stove.

Nat gestured to the goat, "Mercurio, meet Ulak Bal. She's been one of my top informants in this region for several years now."

Ulak clasped Mercurio's hand, "Pleasure t'meet ya, m'lord. Any friend o' Nat is welcome here. I hear ya need t'know 'bout tha mountains. I know that place better'n anyone else round these parts. Anythin' ya need, jus' ask."

Nat dropped into one of the chairs by the fire, "Now we plan our next move."

* * *

The light of dawn lanced down from the high, vast windows of stained glass, taking on the many hues and cutting through the haze of gloom to pool languidly on the marble flagstones. The air in the throne room was still, even the thick motes of dust caught within those slanting pillars of radiance barely moved.

From the great double doors of the chamber to the raised dais at its centre were two ranks of King's Guards, each twenty five men strong. They stood at attention, unmoving, almost like statues. Beside the dais itself stood Barrus, captain of the King's Guard. His face was uncovered, muzzle grey, eyes sunken but glinting with cold malice. His armour was lined with deep blue stones and his cape was embroidered with the King's own sigil.

Upon the dais stood the great marble throne of Armello; it's back reaching ten feet tall, its seat wide enough to fit two side by side. The figure slumped on the huge stone chair was bathed in deep shadow, a silhouette with all detail concealed in the darkness.

The room was utterly silent but for a constant, low growl which thrummed and reverberated like distant thunder. It was a chilling sound that seemed to curse the very light that invaded this sepulchral sanctum.

Soft footsteps echoed off the walls as a newcomer approached. A tall rabbit stepped into the light at the foot of the dais. His fur was russet brown, frosted with age, the silver streaks accentuating his noble features. He wore a formal robe, gold slashed with black, and his head was crowned by a golden circlet set with black stones.

The rabbit gave a small bow. "Majesty..." He paused. Silence. "I wish you would tell me what was on your mind."

The low growl ceased. There was an intake of breath, a soft whisper in the half light. The King's eyes opened slowly; two crystalline orbs of deep, clouded lilac, lit from within by a pearly white glow.

The rabbit sighed and began pacing before the throne, "You began ignoring my counsel, I told myself to let it go. You ordered these...purges," His eyes flicked to Barrus for a second, "I ignored it." He frowned, "Why do you insist on attacking the Wolf Clan? What did the Winter Wolf do to anger you so?"

The King continued to observe the rabbit, seemingly unmoved.

The rabbit spread his hands, voice edged with frustration, "Majesty, please, as your Lord Steward I care for you as I care for all the people of the kingdom! There must be some reason for this sudden turn, if you'll just-"

"You care for me, Florian?" The King cut his Steward off, his voice a deep rumble, soft but menacing. "As your brother cared for me? With poison? And plotting?" His voice rose to a roar and he surged forward, almost rising up out of his pit of shadows.

Barrus motioned with one hand and two guards materialised beside Florian, their halberds crossed, trapping the Steward's neck between them.

"I would have believed you had learned the price of treason long ago, but perhaps I need take your head as well!"

"Your paranoia will tear down all you have built!" Florian retorted.

The King sucked in air, teeth bared and flashing. Then he slumped back into his throne. "You deserve death for this insolence...But I am loath to leave your clan in the hands of a mere child." He thrust out one arm, pointing towards the doors, "Florian of the Rabbit Clan, I hereby strip you of the title of Lord Steward and banish you from the capital! Leave before my mercy runs dry." He gestured to the guards that still held Florian in place, "Remove him from my sight!"

The guards bowed and grasped Florian by the arms, dragging him away from the dais.

"Where does this path lead you, Ariel? Where does it end?"

The great doors swung open and slammed shut once more with a hollow boom of finality.

Silence fell once more like a thick shroud. It lasted several minutes until the King pushed himself to his feet. He turned to Barrus. "Attend me." He muttered before stalking out of the throne room and into a side hallway.

The climb to the top of the palace's tallest spire was long and arduous. He refused to be slowed. The King reached the top of the winding staircase and stepped out onto the highest balcony in the capital, into the bright sunlight. He let out a hiss through clenched teeth. It was painful to be up here during the day but it was still his favourite vantage point. From here he could see out across the entire city, and the kingdom beyond. _His_ kingdom.

Barrus followed close behind, panting slightly from the climb. The King spoke without looking at him, "The Wolf Clan are cousins of your own kind. Tell me Barrus, if they were to become my enemy would you harbour any regrets?"

The hound replied without hesitation, "The King's Guard exists to serve you and you alone, Majesty."

The King smiled. "Good." His eyes narrowed as he stared into the distance, then closed. He breathed deeply. A breeze stirred his mane and cape. Barrus took a few stuttering steps back as a sense of pressure seemed to build around his liege. It was barely perceptible but the King appeared to be momentarily cloaked in an aura of light, faint green tinged with purple. Then he raised one hand above his head. "I call upon the Wyld. Heed your true master!"

A pulse of blue-green energy shot from his palm, rocketed into the sky and vanished. There was a peal of distant thunder.

* * *

After discussing the mountains near Sprucevale for some time Ulak had lent her guests the use of her loft room to rest until they were ready to depart. It was a tall house and the narrow window looked out on the town's perimeter wall and the countryside beyond it. It was a clear morning and Stonehold could be made out on the horizon, in the distance past the peaks of Winterhorn.

Mercurio and his companions had been relaxing, playing cards. The rat was just starting to get comfortable on the thin mattress he was perched upon when something made him look up sharply. The fur on his neck prickled. "Do you feel that?"

Skeeve looked around while Nat narrowed her eyes and seemed to shrink into herself a little. "Something's coming..." She murmured.

"What?" Skeeve asked.

"I'm not sure. Something powerful."

There was a flash outside the window. The three leaped up to look. What they saw was an enormous lightning bolt like a blade striking down from the sky, pure white edged with a green haze. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. A peal of thunder, like the roar of some huge beast, rang out. It rolled up the mountains and down the other side, rattling the window pane as it crashed over the town. Mercurio ducked away from the window, blinking at the purple streak that split his vision.

"By the Wyld!" Skeeve yelled, "That was a lightning strike spell!"

"Where did it come from?" Mercurio asked as his vision started to clear.

Nat turned and pointed, "That way. From the capital." She sounded grim.

"From the King?" Skeeve was incredulous, "It hit the Fleetfoot Hills. Thane's probably there right now! Why would the King attack the prince of the Wolf Clan?"

"For the same reason he was branded a traitor." Mercurio muttered, "Whatever it is we're chasing after."

Nat shook herself, "Quick! We need to report back. The King has been acting strange, and we must tread very carefully."

"No."

Nat and Skeeve both looked stunned. "What?"

"You can go report to the Order. I've come too far to turn back now."

For a moment Nat looked as if she would argue. Then she simply took Mercurio's hand in hers, "Then this is where we part ways. Good luck." She set about packing up her things.

Skeeve glanced between the fox and rat. "Just...don't do anything too hasty, alright friend?"

Mercurio grinned, "Skeeve, what did I tell you? Greatness and riches await us. And nothing will stand in my way."

* * *

Thane sat up. Just a second before the flash of light and the wall of noise there had been a group of tough looking warriors standing in their way. He and River had been prepared to fight. Now where they had stood there was only a crater of glassy soil, fringed by burning grass and a couple of jagged, charred tree stumps.

He was vaguely aware of River struggling to pull him to his feet. Slowly, as if he were surfacing from a deep pool, her voice swam into focus.

"Get up! Come on, we need to get back inside the castle! Now, Thane!"

Somehow he managed to get his feet firmly planted under him. He nodded dumbly and turned. Half limping and half leaning on River, he began his second retreat to Stonehold just a few short hours after leaving it behind.


	4. Chapter 4- A Rabbit's Quest

**A Rabbit's Quest**

The King stirred on his throne as if waking from a slumber. "Traitors and spies abound." He muttered to himself, "I have been lenient for far too long. This is how I am repaid by the very clans I united!" His fist slammed down on the armrest of the throne, echoing through the chamber. "They force me to take drastic measures...Barrus!"

"Majesty?"

"Empty the dungeons. Let any fugitive in the kingdom earn his freedom hunting my enemies."

The guard captain saluted, "At once, Majesty. And the matter of the new Lord Steward?"

The King nodded, "Bring him to me."

* * *

Mercurio parted with Ulak at the gates of Sprucevale. He made his way to the stable, looking down at the object in his hand. The small doll of woven twigs and dried grass. Such a curious thing for so many to kill for.

The rat had found the cultist at a small shrine on top of the mountain. He had fought to protect the poppet but had been no match for Mercurio.

He began preparing his horse for the journey back to Bleakmarsh when someone called from behind him, "Baron Mercurio."

Mercurio turned, hastily hiding the poppet behind his back, to see a pair of King's Guards sitting astride their destriers. "Can I help you?"

"You claimed the bounty on the Winter Wolf?" One of the guards asked as he dismounted.

Mercurio raised his hands, "I was told he was dead, I swear."

"The King wishes to meet you."

Mercurio's eyes flicked between the two guards, "What's this about?"

The second guard approached, "His Majesty believes that you're a trustworthy subject. The King's trust is not to be spurned."

* * *

 _Lady Amber, we greet you Far Seeker, and wish you well on your travels. It's with a heavy heart that we bring dire news. The King has cast aside the counsel of the Rabbit Clan. We no longer have his ear, and the realm suffers for it. As a legend throughout Armello, we ask that you consolidate your prestige, and regain the King's trust. We can still calm this situation before it escalates._

 _Florian, Master of the Rabbit Clan_

Amber placed the letter back on the table beside her. "It sounds awfully formal. He must have been in a hurry to leave the capital."

"But he's safe, right?" A smaller rabbit sat on the couch opposite Amber, fidgeting agitatedly. He had brown and white fur and wore a black doublet embroidered with gold thread, his long ears tied back with a black velvet ribbon.

"I'm sure he's fine, Barnaby. He's probably already on his way back to Skytower."

"So what are you gonna do?"

Amber shrugged, "If Uncle Florian is relying on me then I'll perform my duty to the clan."

Barnaby sprang to his feet, "Then I'm going with you."

Amber sighed, standing. She patted her young cousin on the head, "You're staying here, Little Screwloose. You're the heir to the clan, you need to watch over Skytower while Florian's away."

"You always do this." Barnaby moaned as Amber walked away, "You're always running off and having adventures, and I'm stuck here in some old tower with nothing to do and no one who cares!"

Amber paused by the door. She picked up a bright yellow parasol from its stand and looked back with a sad smile. "That's _your_ duty to the clan, Barnaby. Some day you'll realise that." She stepped out into the hallway, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Outside her chambers she came face to face with another rabbit; tall and slender with black and white fur that formed a thick, snowy collar which spilled out from her crisp white shirt. She wore puffy breeches, striped black and yellow, and a black silk waistcoat trimmed with gold. A leather belt and pouch around her waist held an assortment of architectural tools, and a pair of small, round spectacles hung at her breast. Atop her head sat a yellow beret adorned with, in place of where a badge might be worn, a small red ink bottle and eagle feather quill pen.

The rabbit greeted Amber with a curtsey. "Lady Amber."

"Elyssia. How long have you been out here?"

"Long enough." Elyssia fell into step beside Amber as she progressed down the hallway. "If you intend to journey the kingdom I will gladly accompany you."

"Thank you Elyssia, but that won't be necessary. I've asked Horatio to join me. We'll move faster with just the two of us."

"Minister Jakurr?" Elyssia frowned, "My lady, with all due respect, I shouldn't think the Master of Coin knows one end of a sword from the other."

"Well that shouldn't be a problem. I don't need a bodyguard, just someone to hold my purse. Beside's which, if I am to integrate myself into the royal court I'll need to know everything I can. The Minister is better suited to instructing me in the political games of the capital."

"This is not one of your usual expeditions, my lady. The King has exiled Lord Florian, he executed your-" Elyssia caught herself, "All I'm saying is, the danger is very clear. And I am sworn to protect you."

"You are sworn to protect Barnaby."

"Do you fear for his safety?"

"Not so much as I fear him trying to escape the castle. Who will watch over him if not you?"

Elyssia sighed, "Very well. Just...please be careful, Amber."

Amber smiled, "Thank you, Lady Wardress. Though you needn't worry, I can take care of myself. After all, you taught me everything I know." She gave Elyssia a reassuring touch on the arm and descended the long stairs that brought her to the castle's great hall.

She stepped out into the courtyard and made for the stables. She was halfway through saddling her favourite horse, a sleek, black coated mare, when she heard someone behind her clear their throat.

She turned to see a rotund badger in a gold brocade tunic under a deep red robe with a brown fur collar. He also wore a small black hat. Both the hat and the sleeves of his robe were embroidered with gold thread.

Horatio was stood beside a two horse carriage, its sides hung with golden banners bearing a pair of prancing rabbits, one white and one black. They held between them a standard, bisected black and white.

"If you think I'm riding you can think again."

Amber sighed, "Alright, we'll take the carriage. But I'm driving."

"I know you were keen to go treasure hunting, but it looks like those plans might need to go on hold." Amber made a face as she removed the saddle from her horse. "But maybe we've got time to search a dungeon or two. It is your speciality." The badger climbed into the carriage and was soon joined by Amber. "We'll build influence by exploring and seeking out treasures and followers. Let's get going...Although I would like to maybe have a cup of wyldweed tea." The rabbit shot him another glare that said they'd wasted enough time already. "No? Fine."

A flight of pigeons burst into the air and scattered as the horses and carriage rattled over the cobbles and through the castle gates. Amber glanced back at Horatio, "So, we're on an adventure for treasure and fame? Sounds like this could be fun after all. And have you heard any rumours of where we might find such rewards?"

"There is one thing. Apparently a skilled bard was researching the tale of a lost treasure for a song and went missing in Broken Lair. So, a bard, a chance at treasure and probably danger as well. I might just stay outside if that's okay."

Amber grinned, "It's just some old tomb. What do you have to worry about?"

"I've heard that there's some strange old magic at work in there." He looked sidelong at Amber, "Then again, you've got some strange magic yourself...You should focus your spirit. It may help you in the journey ahead."

"Right." Amber closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, reaching within herself. She could feel it there, like a thread tied around her soul that wound away and connected to some distant point, feeding her its strength. The branch that bound her to the great tree, her link to the Wyld. She took hold of it, feeling its warmth suffuse her body. A gentle breeze swirled around her, ruffling her skirts, and for a moment she was bathed in a faint green haze, the colour of new leaves. Then it faded and she exhaled. "I'm ready."

The carriage rolled across the Skystead Plains. The sun was starting to dip towards the horizon when they came to the cracked and overgrown flagstones that surrounded Broken Lair. They followed an old pathway that led between sunken graves and crumbling statues, deeper into the burial site. At the centre of the cemetery they passed through a half collapsed archway into a small plaza. Here stood a mausoleum, its walls engraved with scenes of battles and great discoveries, now so worn as to be barely recognisable, and any decoration long since lost to the chipped marble husk. A short flight of steps led down to the entrance, long ago split open by a wide crack in the masonry, which gave the tomb its name.

Amber jumped down from the carriage. "I'm going in. Wait here, I won't be long."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Horatio replied, producing a book from within his robes. He looked around anxiously, "Just, please hurry. This place doesn't feel right."

Amber reached into the carriage to a large canvas bag at Horatio's feet. After some rummaging she pulled out a torch and a flint and steel. She lit the torch and, with it in one hand and her parasol in the other, strode confidently into the tomb.

This place was an old rabbit burial ground, built by the clan best known for burrowing deep. As such, the tunnel quickly spiralled down into the cold and dark before it levelled out. From here Amber passed through a number of small chambers. Some had a single sarcophagus set in place of reverence, others had several coffins set into alcoves that lined the walls. The torchlight reflected off a few scraps of ancient opulence; ceremonial weapons and armour, ornaments crafted from precious metals and stones, all rusted and tarnished beyond repair.

As she continued her trek through the catacombs Amber almost gave up hope of finding anything worth taking back, though in one chamber she did come across a small leather pouch that held a handful of gold coins. They were old, crudely hammered wider and flatter than modern leos, with rough edges. One side was stamped with the face of some long dead rabbit king, the other bore the sign of the Druidic Sun. She pocketed the coins anyway, gold was still gold after all, and continued.

When she came to a fork in the passageway she stopped to get her bearings. Her torch guttered in a sudden gust of wind. There was a sound on the edge of hearing, a low, screeching hiss. Amber swept her torch to the left path. The shadows crept back away from the light like a thick black oil oozing across the stone. Amber shook herself, turning instead to the right fork, where a faint blue-green light glowed from around a corner.

She approached the ethereal light and rounded the corner into the tomb's main chamber. In the middle of the room on a small dais was a large, ornate sarcophagus. Suspended roughly five feet above the casket was a large bubble of magical energy, some kind of stasis spell. Floating within it, like a fly trapped in amber, was a fox dressed in a plain blue and white dress. A lute was slung over her shoulder, and a flamboyant wide brimmed hat with four long white plumes drifted near her dormant form.

"I guess you're the missing bard." Amber muttered. She took a moment to assess the spell holding the fox in place and then waved a hand, banishing the magic. The glowing bubble vanished instantly, dropping the bard to the ground with a heavy thud.

"Whuzzat?" The fox sprang awake and scooped up her hat from where it had fallen before standing quickly, glancing around the chamber.

"Are you alright?" Amber asked.

"Yeah, fine." The bard spoke in a voice like gravel soaked in whiskey, "Was just poking around some and got caught up in that bubble thing." She suddenly gasped, clapping a hand to her forehead, "Wyld! How long have I been trapped here? What year is it?"

Amber bemusedly raised a hand, "I shouldn't think you've been missing more than a few days."

"Huh. Well that figures, I _am_ feeling pretty hungry. Thanks for getting me out of that by the way. Name's Rusty." She extended a hand which Amber shook.

"I am Lady Amber of the Rabbit Clan."

"The Far Seeker? Well damn, looks I've got myself rescued by a real hero. Think I might write a song about it. At least then this trip won't have been a complete waste."

"So you didn't happen to come across any lost treasures while you were down here?"

"No more'n what you see here." Rusty spread her arms to encompass the chamber and its contents. "You were here after some prize too, I'd wager."

"I was hoping to find some ancient relic or perform some other heroic deeds. I'm on a quest to raise my clan's standing in the royal court."

"Ha! Why didn't you say so? Tell you what, I'll come along with you and sing of your deeds in every tavern from here to the capital. Least I can do for you saving me."

Amber smiled, "Thank you Rusty. I think I'll take you up on that offer."

It was dusk when Amber and Rusty emerged from the tomb. Amber greeted Horatio and introduced the bard. The rabbit and fox quickly mounted up and their carriage was soon on the move again, leaving the dark crypts below empty and lifeless once more.

"Where to now?" Amber asked over her shoulder.

"If you're going to regain the King's ear you'll need to gain prestige." Horatio replied, "I know a few ways you could get your name out there again."

"Like crashing a high profile duel?" Rusty piped up.

"You have something in mind?" Amber enquired, curiosity piqued.

"Sure. I guess the wolves and rats finally got sick of tolerating each other. I heard they arranged for a couple of their champions to meet at the Iron Needles and settle their differences with steel."

"They would take this matter into their own hands?" Horatio sounded aghast, "That's a direct violation of the Armistice Treaty!"

"Aye, and it'll likely lead to a clan war. 'Course, normally that sort of thing wouldn't stand with the King, but it seems like nothing's been right in the kingdom lately."

"It's a long way to the Iron Needles." Amber muttered, "We'll have to hurry if we're going to make it in time."

"What do you plan to do?" Horatio asked.

"I'll put a stop to their idiotic power games myself. One way or another." She cracked her whip, spurring the horses on faster. Redhorn Meadow, the Silken Green and Thistle Down all blurred past and melted away behind the carriage. They eventually came to a tent city outside Duncastle where Horatio suggested they rest until morning.

* * *

When dawn broke Amber was woken by shouting nearby. Stretching, she stood and spotted a column of Kings Guard's riding into town. One guard broke away and came into the tent city, calling out, "The settlement of Duncastle is under martial law, by order of the Lord Steward, Baron Mercurio."

Amber was soon joined by Horatio. "Curse it!" The badger hissed, "Mercurio of the Rat Clan must have the King's ear. As Lord Steward he has a say in which laws the King enforces."

"What should we do?" Amber asked.

"You'll need to raise your reputation higher than his to earn the King's trust and reaffirm the Rabbit Clan's position in court."

Rusty had also woken and approached the pair with a yawn, "I've been asking around some. That duel? It's happening tonight. We should get a move on."

Amber silently nodded in agreement, climbing onto the carriage.

They spent most of the day crossing the snowy fields of the Burrows Cap Tundra, passing only a few other travellers along their way. Most seemed to be heading towards the Iron Needles as well, drawn by rumours of the imminent duel.

"Why do you think Mercurio is placing towns under martial law?" Amber asked, breaking the silence of the journey.

"I couldn't say." Horatio replied, "But knowing the Rat Clan-and Mercurio specifically, judging by his reputation-it can't be anything good. What worries me more is why the King would allow it."

"It's like I said." Rusty grunted, lifting her hat off her face, "There's something not right at the capital. Not been right for a long time, and now it's spreading. You can feel it in the air everywhere you go. Like a kind of tension, like a storm waiting to break."

Amber stared ahead grimly, "The sooner I retake Uncle Florian's place at court the better. Then I'll get to the bottom of all this."

They finally arrived at the foothills of the Iron Needles. The distinctive, sheer sided spikes of black rock rose high above. The trio waited there until night fell.

* * *

The narrow mountain path wound its way up between rocky outcrops and into a natural basin within a ring of high peaks. A wide circle had been drawn in the dirt here and lined with torches that cast a flickering red illumination across the arena. A crowd of onlookers had formed, thick and bustling, everyone craning to see what was about to unfold. In the middle of the commotion the combatants stood ready; a big wolf warrior carrying a two handed battle axe, and a slim white rat armed with a pair of daggers.

The wolf champion called out, "Everyone here knows you're outmatched, rat. Surrender now and spare your clan the embarrassment of defeat!"

The rat scoffed, "Typical wolf, barking out demands rather than defending your clan's honour. I won't back down for a coward like you."

The wolf snarled, raising his axe, and prepared to charge.

"Looks like it's time I stepped in." Amber said cheerfully. She strode into the crowd and began shouldering her way to the front.

Rusty looked somewhat startled and whispered to Horatio, "You sure she knows what she's doing?"

"Just watch." Horatio smiled confidently.

Just as the two champions made to dash towards each other, Amber leaped into the ring between them. There was a rasp of steel and she stood poised, parasol opened and extended with one hand, a narrow bladed sword in the other, holding both combatants at bay. A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"What's the meaning of this, girl?" The wolf growled.

Amber spoke in a loud, clear voice so all could hear, "My name is Lady Amber, Far Seeker, representative off the Rabbit Clan. Your actions here are a disruption of the King's peace. I command you to stand down and disperse."

The rat scowled, "Get out of my way or you die too!" He knocked Amber's parasol aside and lunged at her. Twisting, Amber deftly parried a flurry of jabs and landed a heavy kick in the middle of his chest. The wolf's axe came crashing down from above and Amber raised the parasol. The axe tore a gash in the flimsy material and bit into the steel hidden beneath-lightweight but as tough as any shield. With a swift riposte Amber brought her sword around, forcing the wolf to duck beneath the blade. She now turned to face both duellists, two to one.

The wolf came first. Before he could even lift his axe Amber quickly closed her parasol and then fluttered it open again in his face, causing him to stagger back. Even as the wolf was flinching away, the rat was already moving. He planted one foot on the wolf's back and vaulted over him, descending on Amber with both blades outstretched. The rabbit easily caught her attacker with the parasol and lifted him over her head, dumping him on the ground behind her. She spun on her heel, raising her sword as if to strike. The wide eyed rat jumped back and scurried away into the sea of shocked onlookers.

Amber turned again, deflecting another swing of the wolf's axe and stepped past him, cracking him over the head with her closed parasol as she did so. The wolf dropped to one knee and swung low, aiming for Amber's legs. She nimbly jumped over the axe and flicked her blade down so the point was on a level with the wolf's eyeline.

"Yield." She spoke the single word calmly but with icy intent.

The wolf gave a long growl, then dropped his axe to the ground.

Amber slid her sword back into the parasol's handle and turned to face the crowd. "This fight is over. Return to your homes and spread the word of what happened here." She picked her way through the hastily disbanding mob to her companions.

Rusty laughed and clapped Amber on the back, "That was a hell of a fight, I didn't think you had it in you."

"I'm tougher than I look." Amber sighed and wiped her brow with a handkerchief. "Well that ought to draw some attention at least. Come on, let's head back."

They left the mountain and returned to the carriage. They crossed Emerald Park to Southbank where they rested until morning. As they made their way back to the stables Amber heard whispers from the people lining the streets. News was already spreading of the illicit duel and her intervention.

As they neared the town gates they were spotted by a group of King's Guards. One approached, inclining his head slightly, "Lady Amber. The King has heard of your recent exploits in keeping the peace. He has shown an interest in meeting with you."

Amber glanced at Horatio, who nodded. She turned back to the guard, "Very well. Take me to the capital. There are things that I would also like to discuss with His Majesty."

"Of course, My Lady, you can come along with us. We just need a little more time to finish up here." The hound gestured over his shoulder.

Looking past him Amber saw a cluster of citizens, all manacled and chained together in single file. As she watched they were herded into an orderly line and marched out through the gates. She turned to the guard again, "What's happening here?"

The guard shrugged, "Prisoners to be brought back to the capital. King's orders."

Amber gaped as the guard left to join the column of his comrades escorting the prisoners. A few of the unfortunates looked up, gaunt faces and hollow eyes meeting hers. She saw no sign of guilt or malice there, just fear and a silent plea for help.

Horatio shook his head, "This can't be the work of the same wise king who united the clans and ruled peacefully for a generation. I never thought I'd see this day, there's nothing worse than madness..."

Amber watched mournfully as the last of the prisoners shuffled past. "Do we stick to Florian's plan?"

"For the time being I think it's best that we do. And pray." He clasped his hands together, "Wyld save us from the king."


	5. Chapter 5- A Bear's Pilgrimage

**A Bear's** **Pilgrimage**

Darkness fell across the ring of stones as night descended. All was silent and still, but for the gentle breeze that stirred the grass. Then a faint illumination, thin wisps of smoke that glowed pale blue, ghostly in the shadowy cairn. They spiralled, weaving between the stones, multiplying and brightening before finally converging over a small alter at the circle's centre. There, in a shallow basin carved from the white stone, the wisps formed a sphere of light. It flickered for a moment, like a cold blue flame, then began to crystallise. Like frost forming over water the light solidified, taking on a glassy appearance. Soon the glow was fully encased, and then faded, leaving behind an egg shaped cerulean stone, roughly the size of a fist, its surface marked by a pattern of swirling lines...

* * *

The King's eyes snapped open. He leaped up from his throne with a muted roar, grasping at Barrus and startling the old hound. "It's just as I have foreseen. Find every Spirit Stone. Go! Now!"

Barrus nodded and retreated to a side hallway. The King sank back into the throne. A moment later Mercurio entered the throne room from another hallway, just as the great doors were thrown open.

"You called for me, your Majesty?" Mercurio took his usual position beside the throne.

"Majesty! Lady Amber, as you requested." Two King's Guards entered from the doorway, leading a white rabbit in a finely embroidered gold and black dress.

The King tipped his head slightly in Mercurio's direction, "We have decided that your services are no longer required. I've had my men searching for someone who I feel is better suited to the position of Lord Steward."

The rat gaped at him, "You can't be serious. Who could be better suited? I am your most loyal and diligent subject-"

"Leave us!" The King snarled, "Before you wear out my patience."

Mercurio scowled, but then gave a low bow. "As you wish, Majesty." He turned and strode away, pausing briefly as he passed the rabbit at the foot of the throne. She was young, but the look she gave him was cold, measured. "I will remember this."

"You had better." She replied in a clipped tone.

He smirked and continued past her, between the ranks of guards that lined the room. She had clearly done this before; the commanding air with which she held herself was something one was born into. Maybe she'd make a good opponent. Mercurio hoped so, he craved the challenge. The doors slammed shut behind him as he exited the throne room. This was a setback but had little importance. His stay in the palace had been brief, though most informative.

Amber approached the throne and gave a deep curtsey. "Your Majesty. It is an honour to stand in your presence."

"Lady Amber." The King's voice came in a deep rumble that reverberated around the throne room, "I have heard much of your exploits throughout the kingdom. It seems you are a true hero, a favourite of the people. I believe you would be a fine choice to serve me as Steward."

"Thank you, your Majesty. I-"

"Why, then, should I trust you?"

Amber blinked, "Majesty?"

"I have long dealt with your clan, and I know who you are. Before Mercurio your uncle held the position, and was dismissed for his insolence. And before him your own father, who plotted to kill me and lost his life. So tell me why you, who comes here with your simpering and your platitudes, should be any different."

Amber felt a flicker of anger stir within her. "I am not my father, or Florian. I am not a traitor seeking power, neither am I a sycophant who would blindly follow you. What I am is a loyal subject of Armello who will continue to do anything I am able to protect this kingdom and its people, even if I must serve a king who forgets them."

A huge hand burst from the shadows and wrapped around her neck, claws digging into her flesh. As he leaned forward into the light, Amber caught her first proper glimpse of the King. She choked back a gasp as she perceived the true horror before her. Ariel, the great golden lion of Armello, sat hunched, face twisted in pain, his clouded eyes burning and fangs bared with rage. His mane had lost its lustre, hanging dark and unkempt as it framed his face, and ragged purple lines marked his skin like scars. They writhed slowly, as if something alive was moving beneath the surface.

"You could not comprehend what I have done to protect this kingdom."

For a moment Amber was lost. Then she found her resolve. Florian and the clan were relying on her. No, even if they didn't know it yet, all of Armello was relying on her. She knew then what she had to do. "I will serve you. Faithfully. I can help you. To bring the clans into line, to crush those who would sow dissent. Together we can reforge Armello, stronger than it's ever been. We both want the same thing, and it doesn't matter whether or not you trust me, because you _need_ me."

The pressure on her throat relented and the King's arm pulled back. Amber gasped for breath. Once more the King's voice came from the shadows, softer now, "Then there is much work to be done."

Amber composed herself, straightening and looking into the deep purple eyes that glinted in the darkness. "What is your command?"

* * *

 _Sister Sana, I will be brief. I am sure you sense the darkness spreading. Old magic stirs. The power of the Rot. The elders agree. It has returned. This corruption must be purged before it manifests. If the Banes are to rise again, all may be lost._

 _Elarius, Brother Superior_

Sana sighed deeply, setting the letter aside and dousing the lamp beside her before rising from her chair. She pulled a dark green cloak from a stand and wrapped it around her shoulders, fastening it with a gold Wyld Tree clasp. She picked up her staff, a gnarled branch topped with a glass spirit lantern, and pushed through the flap of her tent. The canvas fell back into place behind her, forest green and embroidered with a pale green bear standing rampant and clutching a branch topped with a white lily. The sigil was flanked by an image of the Wyld Tree on one side and the Druidic Sun on the other.

Sana's shadow danced in the light thrown by a ring of torches around the tent, flitting between the trees of the forest clearing. With one last look around she set out, but had not gone more than a few paces before a familiar voice called from the trees.

"Sana! I'm coming too, friend! Long time friend! I won't leave you now friend. We are friends, right?" A short lemur dressed in a puffy, purple and gold striped doublet waddled into the circle of light, a cheerful grin on his face.

Sana sighed inwardly, somewhat exasperated by the lemur's enthusiasm. Kip Fluffear was infamous for his unnatural good luck, though he wasn't the brightest and his recklessly excitable nature often landed him in trouble. "Kip, you ought to stay back at the village." The bear spoke gently, "I just need to run an errand for Brother Elarius. I'll probably be back soon, but it could be dangerous."

"And that's why I wanted to come and see you off! But I saw a pretty butterfly and followed it around the forest for a while...And then it got dark...But that's when I tripped over this strange thing," Kip reached into a pocket and pulled out a roughly hewn chunk of blackened wood. An image had been carved into its surface, a worm with its body coiling into a spiral, "It looks scary. What do you think it means?"

Sana immediately recoiled, then hurriedly snatched the object away. Her spirit lantern glowed with green light. "Where did you find this?"

"By the stream."

The spirit lantern's light intensified and the wood burst into flames. Sana dropped it to the ground where it was quickly reduced to smouldering ash. "Some kind of Rot totem." She spat, "Probably placed to spread plague."

Kip wrapped his arms around himself, quaking. "That sounds bad, Sana! Let's avoid the Rot." He quickly perked up again, stumbling after Sana as she continued on to the clearing's edge. "Hey so, where are we going again? I forget."

"The elders believe that the Rot has returned to Armello. They want me to investigate possible sources of corruption near the forest. I decided to head to the ruins of Castle Belaerian." She glanced over her shoulder, "If you're coming then try to keep up."

* * *

They left the forest's edge and made their way across Spring's Steppe. For the most part Sana travelled in silence, while Kip chatted happily. Eventually they came to a stone circle known as Bear's Repose. Kip's speech trailed off and he wandered toward the stones, head tilting from side to side. "Hey, Sana...What's that?"

Sana glanced over to see a blue glow emanating from the centre of the circle. She followed the lemur, weaving between the stones, until they saw the source of the light; a glassy stone resembling a spirit lantern, but shining an icy blue.

"That's a Spirit Stone!" Kip gasped. He hopped around the bear excitedly, "Sana! We should grab it! Keep it safe! Maybe play with it a bit." He suddenly stopped and took on a thoughtful air as he recited, "And to those that gather the stones almighty, shall come the ultimate power. Wyld and purity." He shook his head, returning to his usual self, "That's what an old bear mumbled. His breath smelt of fish so I didn't listen."

Sana approached the alter gingerly. "I thought they had all vanished and returned to the Wyld years ago. To find one now must surely be an omen of something..." She slowly reached out a hand and placed it on the stone. It was smooth and cool to the touch. Sana gently lifted the relic from its alter as if cradling a newborn cub.

Kip clung to Sana's cloak, his eyes wide and fixed on the stone. "A Spirit Stone! Yes! Can I touch it?"

Sana eyed Kip with a raised brow, "No." She said flatly, slipping the Spirit Stone into a pouch on her belt. "Come along now. We still have a ways to go."

They left Bear's Repose behind them and continued on to Thunderfoot Prairie. Sana pointed ahead as the silhouette of a crumbling old keep began to take form on the horizon, "There, do you see? Castle Belaerian. Or what's left of it, at least."

Kip cupped his hands around one eye as if holding a spyglass and squinted. A few moments later his hands dropped and he tugged on Sana's cloak, "Hey, um, do you see that?" The lemur pointed and Sana followed his gaze.

At first she saw nothing. Then the moonlight that lit the distant ruins seemed to dim, as if a dark fog had fallen across the castle.

"I don't like this," Kip murmured, shivering, "I'm scared."

Sana tapped her chin thoughtfully, "It may be best to continue this journey in the morning. The daylight will help us navigate the ruins."

Kip hurriedly agreed, and they found shelter nearby under a small copse of trees. Many would have preferred at least a tent but Sana, like most bears, had no qualms about sleeping out in the open. The loose canopy of leaves was all the cover she needed, and the stars that twinkled through the gaps in between soothed her. Huddled under her cloak, she soon drifted into sleep.

* * *

Morning found the pair climbing up the slope of the castle's dry and overgrown moat. The ruins were a relic dating back to one of the earliest clan wars. Built by a rabbit Warden under General Belaerian, the castle had appeared almost overnight. It was intended as a foothold for the Rabbit Clan to exploit the resources of the Great Forest. The bears had responded, and the castle was torn down just as quickly as it had been constructed by the Bear Clan's Scarcasters.

All that was left now was a decaying structure of scorched and pulverised rubble. Sana reached the top of the rise and pulled Kip up beside her. They walked a little way along the curtain wall until they found a gap and slipped through into the tangle of weeds and long grass that covered the old courtyard.

They stood in the shadow of the keep; its tower broken, and its gates shattered into bleached and rotten splinters. Sana walked a little way into the hallway within. She stopped in her tracks when her spirit lantern flickered softly. The air in front of her shimmered and coalesced into an image of herself. She frowned, reaching out to touch the mirror. The reflection seemed to be fading, another image replacing it, but her eyes weren't able to focus on it. There was an indistinct flash of black feathers and a sharp beak-

-the mirror shattered, jagged shards exploding outwards and snapping Sana out of her reverie. Even as the vision faded a thin tendril of purple-black vapour poured forth, caressing her outstretched hand. A stinging, icy cold instantly shot up her arm. She pulled her hand back, seeing the dark, blotchy stain left on her skin.

"Oh no!" Kip yelled from behind her, "Sana, you've been tainted with Rot! Don't turn purple, please!"

Sana growled, clenching her numb fingers. The light from her spirit lantern was intensifying. "Kip, get out!" She called, backing away as the flagstones before her started to crumble and give way, a yawning void opening up in the floor.

A chilling shriek rose up from the fissure, followed by a fang shaped cloud of black mist. It dived at Sana, who ducked out of the way. The shadow barely grazed past the bear's shoulder before tearing out of the castle and into the sky.

Kip glanced up from where he had thrown himself onto the floor, "What is that thing?!"

Sana ran back out into the sunlight to see the living darkness rise high above the courtyard. It hung there, a lance of roiling black, then sprouted a pair of wings that cast a wide shadow across the ground.

"A Bane!" Kip yelped, cowering behind Sana, "What horror! I never believed in the old bedtime stories, but they're real!"

The Bane's burning purple eyes scanned the courtyard, locking onto Sana. It let out a rending screech and dived, talons outstretched.

"Get back!" Sana pushed her companion aside and raised her staff. The Bane crashed against a dome of green light projected from her spirit lantern. It flapped its wings, talons scratching at the barrier and its black, razor sharp beak hammering down.

The barrier flickered, wavered. With a roar Sana planted her feet and pushed back against the monster with all her weight. The Bane staggered, its assault relenting briefly. Sana's barrier collapsed, replaced by a blade of light that stabbed out, impaling the Bane through its breast. The creature released a mournful scream, writhing violently, then crumpled to the ground in a heap of oily bone and feathers. It started to rapidly decay in the sunlight, specks of ash flaking off and floating away.

"You...you killed it!" Kip launched himself at Sana with a whoop and threw his arms around her, "That was amazing!"

Sana sighed, leaning on her staff. "That's quite enough excitement for one day." She looked down at her marked hand again with a frown. The numbness was subsiding but her fingers still felt stiff. She pulled a bandage from her belt pouch and wrapped it around her hand.

"What now?" Kip asked after the bear had managed to shake him off.

"I still need to see inside." Sana replied, turning back to face the castle. She entered the hallway again, looking down into the hole that the Bane had emerged from. At the bottom of a slope of rubble was a dark and dusty vault. It appeared mostly empty, but at the centre of the room stood a stone table covered in a faded red cloth. A low hiss rose from the pit and was answered by another.

"Uh...Sana? I think we're too late."

"Wait here." Sana climbed into the hole, picking her way carefully down the pile of shifting masonry. She reached the floor of the cold chamber below and slowly approached the table. Glancing around, she saw that the flagstones surrounding the pool of light from above was flooded with a thick black ichor. It bubbled and hissed, indistinct shapes rising and sinking. A piercing shriek rang out from a distant corridor.

"Sana?"

"Stay there!" Sana quickened her pace. She reached the covered table and threw the cloth aside, revealing a staff of smooth, varnished wood, topped with three carved dragon heads twisting together into a knot.

Sana's head whipped around as a Bane climbed out of the ichor pool, wings fluttering wetly. She snatched up the staff from the table, feeling her power flow into the artefact as she turned to face the approaching monster. The dragon heads glowed pale blue-green and writhed as they came alive. With a roar the staff unleashed a gout of emerald Wyldfyre that engulfed the Bane. The bear started backing away towards the vault's entrance as more Banes began to emerge and close in on her.

"Sana, come on!" Kip called out, wide eyed and trembling as he reached down into the vault.

Sana swept the Wyldfyre staff in an arc, cutting through a swathe of Banes, fending off slashing beaks and talons with her spirit lantern. She clambered back up the slope of rubble and out of the vault, grasping Kip by the hand. "Let's go!"

The pair ran down the length of the hallway and back out into the courtyard. Shrieks rang out behind them as living shadows filled the castle. Sana burst out into the sunlight and dived sideways, pulling Kip down beside her. A moment later a stream of Banes erupted from the doorway and flew into the sky, dispersing into a cloud of quickly spreading horrors.

Silence fell over the courtyard. It lasted for a long time before Kip slowly uncovered his head and pulled himself to his feet. "Well I'm glad that's over. Let's get out of here!"

"Agreed." Sana stood with a grunt and brushed off her cloak. "We should get as far from here as possible."

They fled from the old castle until night fell. While resting they discussed what their next move should be.

Kip scratched his ear thoughtfully. "I think we should probably take that Spirit Stone to the palace."

"You're right." Sana replied, "Banes have returned to Armello and the Wyld is stirring. I'm sure the King will know what to do."

They headed south toward the capital, crossing over the Winter's Bane mountains and through Thall's Stone Circle. The high white walls of the royal city came into view, reflecting the light of a thousand torches. Above rose the towers of the city's heart, and in the middle of it, tallest of all, the majestic spires of the palace.

* * *

A young soldier of the King's Guard knelt before the throne. He looked up as the King addressed him.

"What is your report?"

"Majesty. Several messages have come in from across the kingdom. Banes are pouring out from numerous sites believed to have connection to black magic."

"So they've come." The King turned to Barrus, "Lock the palace down, none shall enter. We must protect the kingdom."

"Yes Majesty."

Amber frowned, "Would it not be more reassuring to your subjects to show openness in this time of strife? Prove to them that their king is honest and kind, put their minds at ease."

"I will not be caught unprepared by this scourge again!" The King snapped, "The people require strong guidance, not kindness. Double their taxes to fund our army, ration food, and enforce a curfew across all settlements. Begin conscripting a militia to bolster the Guard, and have your men crack down on any sign of dissidence."

Amber opened her mouth to protest, then swallowed with a sigh. "As you command, your Majesty."

The King clutched at one armrest with a quiet snarl, "Barrus, have a squad stand guard in the north gardens. Something is coming..."

"Banes?" The old captain arched an eyebrow.

"Worse."

* * *

Sana and Kip approached the northern gate of the royal palace. The gates were left open and the portcullis raised, but the gateway and gardens within seemed deserted.

"Where are the gate guards?" Kip asked, glancing around.

Sana took a few steps into the gardens. Stretching out before her from the outer walls to the palace keep was a network of marble tiled paths separated by neat flower beds. The bear continued a little way down the nearest path. "Something isn't right..." She muttered. Looking down she saw that the grass and flowers at her feet were writhing and twisting.

"Sana, the palace seems different. The...the defences are up!"

Suddenly the plants burst upwards from the flower beds, roots and stems weaving together to form solid walls, leaves blooming into a verdant bulwark pressing in on all sides. Within seconds a vast, enchanted hedge maze had risen around them.

Kip clutched at Sana's cloak, "Doesn't the King know we have a Spirit Stone?"

A moment later eight King's Guards rushed from between the hedges to surround Sana and Kip, halberds lowered menacingly. One guard stepped forward and held a hand out toward Sana, "The stone, hand it over!"

Sana's eyes widened, "I don't understand, take me to the King-" She flinched as the ring of halberds tightened around her. She slowly withdrew the Spirit Stone and handed it over. The guard seized it from her and moved back into line.

A chilling, rumbling voice rang out from behind Sana, "Lock it in the dungeon." She turned with a gasp. The King stood blocking the way back to the gates, leaning heavily on a broad-bladed sword. She saw the purple marks that lined his body, just like the stain on her own hand. However, more than that, she could _feel_ the Rot; an unpleasant prickling sensation within her own infected flesh. "And these intruders too."

Kip angrily confronted the guards, "That's our Spirit Stone! Not yours! Sana, they aren't trying to stop the Rot! They're leading us to disaster!"

Another of the guards came forward and spoke in a commanding tone, "We can't let you leave, Sister. If you come to the dungeons willingly your death will be quick."

Kip leaped behind Sana again with a yelp, "No! Sana! Save me! I'm too hilarious to die! Wait! Quick! Cast banish on yourself! We can escape before it's too late!"

Sana scowled. With one last look around at the King and the guards closing in she raised her left hand and uttered an incantation as she weaved the spell. A swirl of purple light appeared around her and Kip, and swallowed them both. They vanished as the light faded. The air whirled, buffeting the King and his men, then fell still once more. The King roared, hurling his sword at the spot where Sana had stood, shattering a flagstone and causing the guards to scatter.

* * *

Several miles from the capital, in the old rabbit tomb known as Broken Lair, a small pool of water glowed faintly. Ripples spread across its surface, and then Sana rose in an eruption of spray, soaked and gasping for air. She reached back under the water and pulled up her sputtering friend, tossing him to the pool's edge and climbing out after him, shaking the water from her fur.

"Never liked that spell." The bear grumbled to herself as she wrung out her cloak.

Kip pulled himself into a sitting position and tilted his head, trying to remove the water from his ears, "Thank the Wyld. Just in time. I can't believe it. Our king has been taken by the Rot! It's clear now that the King's days are numbered. But who's going to rule Armello?"

Sana shook her head, "The clans will use this opportunity to attempt to seize power. They'll go against the court and each other to claim the throne. It may come to war."

"Let's return and talk with the fish breath bears. They'll know what to do."

Sana pulled the lemur to his feet, "I hope you're right, Kip."


	6. Chapter 6- The Elders' Blessing

**The Elders' Blessing**

The air was still within the chamber in the heart of Stonehold Castle. The walls were bare stone, unadorned but for a few sparse lamps. These lights cast a dull gloom, deepening the shadows in the dark corners and on the faces of those assembled. The only furniture here was a broad, round table surrounded by simple wooden chairs; and one larger seat, ornately carved and decorated with bone and furs. That seat was one of the few left empty.

It was known as the War Room, and it was where the Iron Tribe's council of elders would meet to discuss important matters, sensitive information, and, as the name suggested, mobilising troops in times of strife.

The gathered elders represented the wisest and most respected members of the Tribe, not to mention several of the greatest martial leaders in the whole Wolf Clan. However, even among this illustrious group of warriors none stood out more than the woman seated to the right of the Chieftain's throne.

Her fur was pure white and her icy cerulean eyes scanned the faces around her languidly. She wore a silver breastplate, embossed with the sign of the Druidic Moon, beneath a flowing robe of translucent white silk. Intricate patterns were picked out across the garment in silver thread. Atop her brow sat a headdress of silver, sapphire and moonstone beads, and long streamers of silk; through which her hair twined before falling down her back in a long braid that coiled into her lap. Within the sash cinched at her waist she carried a pair of ceremonial battle axes with smooth bone handles and silver, crescent shaped blades.

Snowstrider Greymane had been a Moon Tribe priestess in her youth and still carried herself with the same faith and dedication after marrying into the Iron Tribe. Now, as the late Chieftain's widow, she held the highest position within the Tribe until a new leader succeeded the throne.

The silence was broken as the door opened, letting in a brief burst of light and sound from the hallway outside. Thane and River slipped inside the War Room, the door thudding shut heavily behind them.

Thane approached an empty seat opposite Snowstrider and inclined his head slightly. "Mother."

"Thane." Snowstrider's voice was low, melodic, but with a steely edge, "Are you certain you're strong enough to be out of bed? After the events of the last few days I wouldn't blame you for taking more time to rest."

"Thank you for your concern, but no, I'm fine." Thane sat, River taking up a position behind him.

Snowstrider seemed to relax but didn't let her relief show. Her gaze shifted to the huntress, "Thank you again for keeping my son safe, River."

River bowed, "Of course, Den Mother. It's an honour to serve you."

One of the elders, Erryn Frostwing, spoke up, "Now that you're here, may we begin?" She looked to Snowstrider who gave a small nod. "Everything we feared has been confirmed. Now what do we do about it?"

Iorek Redfang slammed a fist on the table, "What is there to discuss? The King has ordered a direct attack against our clan! How long before he sends his hounds to burn our cities and slaughter our people? I say we ride for the capital, smash down the gates of his palace, and hang him from his damned tower!"

Snowstrider held up a hand, "Enough, Iorek. We can't lead our entire army against the capital. At best it would come to a prolonged siege that we're not prepared to sustain."

"We should call for a meeting of the tribes." Suggested Hestus Flynt, "The King's Guard could never stand against the entire Clan."

Thane leaned back in his chair, "If you're prepared to send out messages to every tribe, wait for all the chieftains to arrive at the Moon Glade, go through the usual pointless arguments before any kind of decision can be made..."

"He's right," Erryn sighed, "There isn't time for that. Need I remind you all that this isn't a simple matter of the King turning on the Wolf Clan? Scouts have reported entire flocks of Banes rising across the kingdom. Their numbers will only increase by the day. The Rot has returned to Armello. The Rot has taken the King, and it must be stopped. At all costs."

Snowstrider steepled her fingers, leaning forward on the table, "Erryn is correct. If this corruption is not dealt with quickly it will spread like a disease."

"What do you suggest, Den Mother?" asked Hestus.

Snowstrider took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Finally she opened her eyes, looking around the table, "A small group of warriors would be able to move faster and attract less attention than an army. That may be our best course of action. We will not remain idle here either; in the meantime we will call for a Clansmoot at the Moon Glade and raise an army to assist in any way we can."

Lyra Hardridge, who had remained silent until now, spoke up, "Who would you send? We could have five or six knights saddled up within the hour, awaiting your orders."

Snowstrider shook her head, "Thane, River. It should be you."

Iorek looked between Snowstrider and Thane then back again, "The boy? You already entrusted him with one simple task and he crawled back half dead-twice! Send someone else."

Lyra frowned, crossing her arms, "As much as I hate to say it, Iorek speaks true. My apologies, Lord Thane, but further endangering you can only hurt our tribe."

Thane growled. He pushed himself to his feet, pressing his hands against the table, "I am Thane Greymane, the Winter Wolf, and I _will_ be Chieftain of this tribe." He looked at each elder in turn, "If you question my strength, know that so long as I have my sword in hand I will fight to secure that future for myself. If you question my resolve, know that my will is iron-forged and I will fight to the end for my clan." He returned his gaze to Snowstrider, "Den Mother, command me and I will follow your orders without hesitation or error."

"And what say the rest of you?" Snowstrider asked.

"I have faith in your judgement, wherever it may lie." Said Hestus.

"I agree." Erryn nodded, "I don't doubt the young lord, and with River by his side I'm sure he can't find himself in too much trouble."

"Very well. If Iorek and Lyra stand by their decision then the last word falls to me." Snowstrider stood, her hair and robes cascading around her, "Winter Wolf, Howling Arrow, I command you both. Travel to the royal city, take King Ariel's head and cleanse this corruption from Armello. Take heed that we can provide no assistance. Our enemies must be made to believe that you are working without the Clan's knowledge or approval."

Thane held one fist to his breast, and he and River both bowed. "I'll leave at once."

Snowstrider nodded, "Then you have the elders' blessing. Moon shine upon you both. Pack strong."

* * *

The cavern was carved deep into the earth between the roots of the Wyld Tree. The gently curving walls and ceiling were supported by thick beams of hardwood, old and hard as iron, and carved with ancient runes in flowing patterns. The floor was covered with flagstones and highly polished. At regular intervals along the walls stood roughly hewn stones, each about three feet high but no two exactly alike. These stones were spiralled with thin grooves through which traced lines of blue light. Near the top of each stone was a hole, about a foot wide, where the light culminated into fuzzy spheres of cold blue flame. The light cast from these lamps lit the chamber almost as bright as day, though with a soft blue tinge.

This was the great council chamber of the elder bears; the second most revered room in all of the Great Forest, behind the high temple in the branches above. The assembled elders sat at the end of the long cavern behind a simple crescent shaped oaken table. Each was perched on a wide chair of knotted, living wood from which leaves and flowers sprouted. Behind the elders, the back wall of the chamber was formed by one of the Wyld Tree's enormous roots; the bark stripped away and the pale wood beneath etched from floor to ceiling with a huge image of of the Tree itself. Power radiated from the carving, unseen but easily felt by all present. The Wyldfyre staff that Sana had recovered from Castle Belaerian had been enshrined here, hung from the back wall just behind and above where the elders sat.

Sana's feet padded softly across the floor as she entered the chamber. She approached the table until she stood within the spot encompassed by its curved sides and knelt, inclining her head solemnly. "Elders, you summoned me?"

"Be at ease, Sister." Came the husky, rumbling voice of Elarius, Brother Superior of the Bear Clan.

Sana looked up, meeting his gaze. Elarius was a big, old bear, his fur grey and shaggy. His thick, unkempt mane almost covered his eyes, which were once the colour of an overcast sky and now just as cloudy. He was dressed in robes of green and white; although they were the raiment of his high station they were made to be comfortable and practical, and far less ostentatious than many might have guessed. Around his neck was a simple length of leather string on which was hung blocks of bone and amber, and atop his brow was a crown of deep green leaves. A staff leaned against the back of his chair. It looked older than he was, and ended in a knot of roots that wrapped around a large jade sphere.

The elders all wore the same grim expressions. There were four of them in all: to Elarius' right sat Sister Elssen Yewbark, Speaker for the Wyldsingers, and Brother Moldren Starseeker, Speaker for the Seers. At the other end of the table was Sister Grelda Ebonhew, Speaker for the Faithful. Between Elarius and Grelda was an empty space where a fifth chair had been removed, hacked away at the roots that fed it.

Elssen looked concerned, "Sana dear, are you fully recovered?"

Sana flexed the fingers of her left hand. No sign remained of the Rot that had infected her. "Yes, thank you Sister. The healers' magic works well."

"Then we must discuss what is to be done concerning these recent events." Moldren stated.

"Yes." Elarius agreed, "If all you've told us true then even we can not remain stoic in this matter. Action _must_ be taken to preserve Armello and its people."

"But what can we do?" Grelda asked, "We have no army, we do not fight for power as the other clans do."

"And yet we can't allow the other clans to deal with this themselves." Elssen muttered, "They will fight against each other for a chance to strike at the true threat. They would tear the kingdom apart with their war."

"True, we have no army," Elarius said, "But we have our faith in the Wyld. Against the enemy we now face there can be no more powerful weapon. Sana?"

Sana nodded, "The Wyld has manifested in our world once more. The Spirit Stones have returned, I have seen it."

"And from your account it seems that the King fears them." Moldren mused, "Perhaps more than anything else."

"We know of the Stones' cleansing properties." Elssen said, "Pure Wyld power, condensed into physical form. They've been used to fight the Rot before. Perhaps enough Stones brought together could purge the King's corruption...if not destroy him."

"And we have here a priestess who could wield that power, if anyone can." Elarius said.

Moldren nodded sagely, "Sana, as it was foretold, you must be the one to return balance to the Wyld. The time is at hand."

Sana bowed her head, "I will go. If this task must fall to me then I shall not falter."

"It will be dangerous." Grelda turned to her fellow elders, "Is it wise to send Sister Sana to this fate alone?"

Elssen shrugged, "You said yourself: there are no warriors here. What choice is there?"

Elarius sighed deeply, pausing before he spoke. "Go into the forest. Seek the Outcast."

Moldren sputtered, "Oakbreaker? Are you serious, Elarius?"

"He _is_ the only fighter we have..." Elssen spoke hesitantly, "Even if he is an exile."

"Preposterous!"

"Peace, Moldren." Grelda crossed her arms, frowning. "Brun Oakbreaker has made it quite clear that he wants nothing more to do with the Clan, and we feel the same. I don't much like it either, but he should at least suffice as a bodyguard until this matter is settled."

"He will help me?" Sana asked, "He will help the Clan?"

"You must persuade him." Elssen replied, "I doubt it will be easy."

"You two are our only hope for survival, Sana." Elarius said.

Sana rose, "Then I shall make preparations to leave."

Elarius nodded. "Then go, Forest Sister, with the elders' blessing. Seek out the Wyld's favour, end this corruption before it spreads and bring peace to our kingdom. We wish you good fortune. Strength in spirit."

* * *

Thane crested the ridge of the hill and looked down on the valley below. On the horizon he could just make out the hazy spires of the royal city. He pulled a map out from a wooden tube tied to his pack and unfurled it. He turned to glance at River as she came up the rise beside him.

"You have a plan?"

"Of course," Thane held the map out towards her, "Take a look." He traced a straight line across the map from Stonehold to the capital.

River rolled her eyes. "I see why Snowstrider hired a guide for you the first time." She pulled the map away from Thane, ignoring his protests. "Now, let's see..." She tapped the map thoughtfully, then plotted a line that meandered through the kingdom, passing through several small towns and forests while avoiding mountains and swamps.

"It'll take a while..."

"But it'll get us there alive." River handed the map back to Thane with a sweet smile. "And keeping you alive is my job, after all." She patted him on the shoulder and bounded down the hillside.

Thane shook his head with a wry smile and sprinted after her.


	7. Chapter 7- Darkness Rising

**Darkness Rising**

Mercurio sat on the cliff edge, looking down on the town below. In his hands he held the poppet, slowly turning it over and over between his fingers. He felt a stirring deep within himself. The infection was like a tiny voice calling out across an ocean of noise. It joined with other voices, drawing him toward them, just as they were drawn to him. Banes, others like him, even the King himself-he could feel all of them, but just barely. It felt as if he were seeing them through a thick fog.

He needed more. More Rot. Until the voice in his mind grew into a mighty beacon, calling all who would listen to bow before him. He wondered what fate would befall this unsuspecting settlement if he stayed here long enough, drawing in monsters and misfortune. How long before the taint seeping from him spelled doom for everyone around him. The thought amused him briefly, to stay and watch the town burn or fall to pestilence and decay. But he needed to move on. He needed to nurture the corruption growing within until it was ready to truly flourish.

He put the poppet away and tilted his head to one side with a small grin. "You can come out now."

There was a hiss of air and Mercurio found a broad, razor sharp falchion pressed against his throat. The face of his assailant slid into view at the edge of his vision. "Well done. Not many people ever hear me coming. Not that it really makes a difference."

Mercurio slowly pushed the blade away from himself with a single fingertip and got to his feet. "Then I take it you're not here to kill me." He turned to look at the other rat.

She wore a dull grey-green dress with a gold, floral patterned hem. Over the dress was a long coat of stiff, dark red leather that was held loosely closed by red laces across her chest. Her hands were covered by long leather gloves that went up a little way past the elbow, and a matching hood protected her head and neck. Her ears protruded from the back of the hood, as did her long, dark brown hair, which was bunched into a tail by a simple silver hoop. A teardrop shaped brass and ruby charm hung from a leather band on her tail, that tinkled slightly as she moved. Sky blue eyes watched Mercurio carefully from under her hood.

"Zosha the Whirlwind, I presume?"

"Correct." Zosha gave a mock bow. She held her coat open for a moment, revealing a thick, black belt fastened with a large, claw shaped silver clasp. She slipped her falchion through the belt by her left hip, opposite its twin.

"Your reputation precedes you."

"As does yours." Zosha paced back and forth a little way, stretching lavishly, every movement measured to seem perfectly relaxed while keeping every muscle tensed to act. "Baron Mercurio, the Grinning Blade. The dashing rogue who went from street urchin to aristocrat before he was twenty years old. Such a gripping tale of cunning, romance and back alley skulduggery." She stopped in front of Mercurio again and tapped him on the nose, "But who could have known his dark secret? That he was actually one of the most prominent agents of The Order of the Thorn."

Mercurio swiped her hand away from his face and took a few steps along the cliff edge without turning his back on her. "I assume there's some point you're getting to?"

Zosha turned away with an airy chuckle, "You know who I serve."

"A decrepit witch who controls the Clan through fear and deceit."

Zosha glanced back over her shoulder, ignoring the obvious barb, "The Night Mother is very interested in you, Mercurio."

"And what exactly does she want?"

"Why, the only thing of any true value, of course. Information. What is the Order's sudden interest in the Rot? Why didn't you report back with your companions? And what did you learn during your stint as Lord Steward?"

"You seem like a bright girl." Mercurio sneered, "I'm sure you'll find out one way or another." He made to push past Zosha but she stepped aside, letting him put some distance between the two of them before she called after him.

"The King is ill. The whole kingdom is catching on to that. No one really knows what it is-sickness, madness...But something isn't right." Mercurio paused. She continued casually, "It's got the Council quite excited. If the King is no longer fit to rule then perhaps he could be deposed, give way for Rat Clan supremacy." She strolled up beside Mercurio and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Of course, the Night Mother plans to come out on top. Surely someone of your ambitious nature feels the same?"

"Are you suggesting I side with you and your Night Mother to seize the throne?"

"You've already been closer than any other Clan agent in living memory. You and your knowledge of the palace are just what she needs. At least consider it. Is your loyalty to the Order really that strong?"

Mercurio rounded on her, his teeth bared, "I don't need the Order and I don't need you! Damn the Council and the whole Clan for all I care! The throne will be mine, and I'm not much for sharing."

Zosha took a step back, eyes wide. For the first time she felt intimidated by Mercurio. It wasn't the anger in his voice, but rather a strange force that seemed to emanate from him. She felt as if he exuded a decisive sense of dread. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinised him, "What have you done to yourself?"

Mercurio's snarl broke into a sly smile, "I've simply accepted a different path. The path to true strength."

"You're infected." Zosha took a few steps back.

"You want to know what's really happening in the capital? The King has given himself over to the Rot, I've seen it for myself. But the fool's lost control. I, however, won't make the same mistake. I will make myself one with the Rot, command it, and once I've amassed more strength than he could ever hope to wield I'll bring it crashing down on his palace and take it for myself."

Zosha's hands motioned towards her belt, "Do you realise how crazy that sounds? What makes you think I won't just end you here?"

"Because if you actually believed that you could kill me you would have already done it. And because you don't really think it sounds all that crazy." Mercurio spread his arms, "Why don't _you_ help _me_? Think it over. You and I, with no one else to hold us back, and the greatest prize of all laying at our feet."

Zosha shook her head, but her expression was thoughtful. She edged around Mercurio and began backing away down the hillside. "I'm going back to Briarcrest. I imagine we'll be seeing each other again before long."

Mercurio watched as she turned and made a dash for the nearby tree line. He called after her, "At least consider it. Is your loyalty to the Night Mother really that strong?"

After Zosha had disappeared Mercurio folded his arms, smiling to himself. He hoped to see the assassin again sooner rather than later. This could prove to be most entertaining.

* * *

Barnaby and Elyssia were waiting in the great hall when Florian returned to Skytower. "Father!" The short rabbit exclaimed as he ran to embrace Florian.

The Clan Master allowed himself a rare smile as he clutched his son to his chest. "Barnaby! Full of life as ever I see. I think you've grown a little since I last saw you." He patted Barnaby on the head with a chuckle, then turned his attention to the Wardress who still stood at attention nearby. "Elyssia, I trust all is well here?"

Elyssia dipped into a low curtsey, "Yes my lord, the Skytower has been maintained in the manner to which you are accustomed."

Florian sighed somewhat amusedly and approached Elyssia, resting a hand on her shoulder, "And how are you?"

Elyssia straightened but seemed to relax a little, "Also well, Lord Florian." She paused briefly, "As was Lady Amber, when last we spoke."

Florian sucked in a breath, growing serious again. "Yes, I heard the news of her appointment as Steward during my journey. She works quickly." He nodded to himself, "It is as it should be."

Barnaby frowned, "But she could be in danger." He said worriedly.

"She is undoubtedly in danger. To be that close to the King is a risk I would not wish on anyone, were it not necessary."

"What's really going on inside the palace?" Elyssia asked.

"The King...the King is ill." Florian spoke hesitantly, "He is not in his right mind. But that is why it's important that Amber remains there. If the King were to lose the throne there _must_ be a representative of the Rabbit Clan at the royal court. We must be the ones to guide Armello in this time unrest, as has always been our calling."

"I would like permission to travel to the capital." Elyssia stated, "I would rest easier by her side than here, powerless to help."

"Impossible." Florian waved a hand dismissively, "I know how you feel, but the King already distrusts the Clan. The less contact Amber has with us, the less likely it is that the King will think she's plotting something."

"I can't visit her, at least?" Barnaby asked.

Florian shook his head with a scowl, "You are my son and heir, and I will not put you in harm's way until this whole matter is settled. Elyssia."

"My lord?"

"Please make preparations to leave. I would like you to escort my son to Deepwarren and ensure he is kept safe until the kingdom is secure once more."

"At once, my lord." Elyssia inclined her head and turned to leave.

"Father, please! I-" Barnaby protested but Florian cut him off.

"No arguments, no excuses." He squeezed Barnaby's shoulder gently, "We will all be reunited soon, I promise you."

Barnaby sighed, looking visibly deflated. "Alright. I'll get ready to leave."

Elyssia glanced sidelong at the dejected prince as they climbed the stairs from the great hall. She tried to console him, "You used to love Deepwarren. Being close to the mines and the forges was all you ever wanted." Her voice took on a slightly more teasing tone, "In fact, I seem to recall you crying a river when you were first brought to Skytower. It took Amber days to calm you down."

"I don't _want_ to stay cooped up where it's safe!" Barnaby snapped, exasperated. "I want to go out and see the kingdom, like you and Amber. It isn't fair!"

"Lord Florian thinks the world of you, it would break his heart to see you get hurt. And you heard what he said, the King's days are numbered and Florian expects Amber to secure the throne for the Rabbit Clan. For him. You know what that means, don't you?"

Barnaby sighed, "He wants me to succeed him. As Master of the Clan and king as well." He shook his head, "I don't want that kind of responsibility." He stomped down a hallway to his chambers and threw himself against the door, pushing it open.

The interior of the room was an odd mix of elements. One side was a lavish bedchamber decorated in black and gold, the other was bare stone and filled with what looked like the contents of several different workshops jumbled together. There was barely room to walk amid the assortment of workbenches and tables. In one corner was a small forge, anvil and grindstone. In another a slowly bubbling alchemy laboratory formed a forest of twisting glass beside a cabinet filled with brightly coloured bottles. The walls were lined with racks of every tool imaginable; hammers, files, tongs, drills, planes, saws, awls, shears and calipers of various sizes. Odd bits of metal, wood, glass and leather were scattered or piled on the floor, in crates or on tabletops. Every available surface was covered with annotated diagrams of a hundred different devices, some sketched in Barnaby's own hasty scrawl, others looking much older and well pored over. The air was pervaded by the smells of oil, sawdust, smoke and a myriad of unnameable chemicals.

Barnaby whipped off the ribbon that tied his long ears back, casting it aside, and flopped onto his bed with a huff. He bounced a little off the plush mattress before lying still, face down, limbs and ears splayed out around him.

Elyssia perched gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. "Believe it or not, I know how you feel." She reached out and gently stroked the back of Barnaby's head, "When I was a girl I never wanted to be Wardress. I was taken from my family, brought here, consigned to a life of toil and dedication. This duty was chosen for me. Just like how you didn't want to leave your home before, just like Lady Amber now. I imagine she never wished for the responsibility laid upon her. Even your lord father probably felt the same when he became Master of the Clan. In truth, none of us ever feel ready for the roles that life chooses for us. It is up to us to grow into them, and to grow as people while we do."

Barnaby turned his head to look up at her. "You want to help Amber don't you?"

"Of course. But I have my orders."

"Damn your orders!" Barnaby pushed himself up onto his knees, "And damn my father. Let's go to her! You were told to escort me anyway, so come with me to the capital."

Elyssia sighed and crossed her arms defiantly, "If we do I can't promise to keep you safe."

"I can look after myself."

"Oh really?"

Elyssia watched him quizzically as he rolled off the bed and pulled a heavy chest out from under it. He swung open the lid and started extracting the contents one by one, tossing each behind him in turn. A small pile started growing behind him; dusty books and old toys and puzzles that Barnaby had modified, repaired, or built from scratch over the years. Finally, when the chest was empty, he gripped the bottom of it and pulled. There was a scrape of wood and the whole bottom panel of the chest came away, revealing a surprisingly deep hidden compartment beneath.

Elyssia raised her eyebrows at what Barnaby had revealed. "Did you make all of this?"

"Of course." Barnaby looked back at her, grinning proudly. "What d'ya think?"


	8. Chapter 8- The Outcast

**The Outcast**

Bright sunlight filtered through the canopy above and cascaded down to dapple the forest floor, scattering gold and emerald constellations across the grass and earth. The ephemeral beams hung in the air, forming graceful, fractal pillars and arches finer than the works of any rabbit architect.

The thick undergrowth and low branches rustled and swayed as Sana's cloak brushed past them. She breathed the forest air deeply, taking in the sights and sounds of her surroundings. Ever since she was a girl she had loved nothing more than strolling amidst the strong trunks and wildflowers, simply observing the gifts of the Wyld. Though her mind wandered she reminded herself that this was no leisurely hike and focussed on her task. Now seeing the forest spread out around her was a reminder of everything she had to protect.

She had been given little help in this first step of her journey, sent out from Wyldroot with only vague directions that had led her to this area of the forest. She had now been searching here for the better part of a day. In the last couple of miles she had started seeing signs of habitation; carvings etched into the bark of trees, charms crafted from wood, bone and hide hung from branches, faded cloths draped decoratively in clearings. She had followed these markings and they had steadily become more frequent. She was now outside domain of the Clan and deep into the territory of a solitary outsider.

An outsider who did not wish to be found, Sana thought to herself with a sigh. She followed the sound of flowing water to a small stream and there decided to rest. She dropped her pack, built a small fire and filled a pot with fresh water. Sprinkling a handful of dried wyldweed into the pot she left it to brew as the water boiled.

A few minutes had passed before there was a mighty crash and a huge figure sprang from the shadows of the trees, landing heavily beside Sana and drawing up to its full height with a growl.

Towering over Sana was another bear, at least a full foot taller than her and almost half again as broad. Shaggy fur, dark grey, almost black, covered his body, with lighter, ashen grey colouration on his head and chest. Thick, pale scars swirled in intricate patterns across his arms, shoulders, back and chest. He wore a simple loincloth with a large ram skull belt buckle, heavy leather vambraces and an angry scowl. There was an iron hoop through his left ear and he carried a fearsome looking double headed cudgel of spiked stone.

"You're treading where you're not wanted, Forest Sister." The grey bear rumbled, "Leave. Now."

Sana looked at him coolly, "And a good day to you too." She lifted the pot from the fire and filled a cup.

The grey bear indignantly thumped his cudgel against the ground, "I could crush your skull with one blow, would you merely sit there and mock me?"

Sana sipped her tea without looking up. "I imagine you could." After pausing to take another sip she fixed her gaze on the other bear, undaunted. "You won't kill me, Brun Oakbreaker. I'd think that the last Scarcaster would have had enough of slaughtering his own kind. Now are you just going to stand there or are you going to sit and drink with me?"

Brun grumbled as he lowered himself to the ground. "What do you want?"

"Has your life of seclusion numbed you to the changing of the world?" Sana poured a second cup of tea and held it out to Brun, who grudgingly accepted.

"My link to the Wyld is as strong as it ever was. I know of what you speak." He swept his gaze across their surroundings, "I feel it in the trees. I hear it in the voices of the birds and the fish of the river. This land is poisoned. The white city is stained black."

Sana eyed him over the rim of her cup, "Then you know that the King's reign must be ended."

"My decision is already made. I will go to the capital and take his head myself."

"And rule the kingdom in his place?"

Brun snorted, "I care not who rules. Leave it to the royal court to decide."

"If there is no clear successor then the clans will go to war over the throne."

"Then let them fight. Any who come here can meet their end by my hand. I shall have no further part in it."

"I see your head is as hard as it ever was too." Sana snapped. "What is your plan exactly? March into the throne room swinging your cudgel around? You are just one man, Brun Oakbreaker. If you bring war to the capital you will find yourself facing the King's entire army. The whole city is fortified, the palace itself is near impregnable. Not to mention that Ariel himself is a warrior unmatched by any who live."

Brun turned away with a low grunt.

"What if I told you there was another way?"

The Scarcaster looked back at her, brow raised.

"If you have felt the Wyld stir then you should know that it has blessed our world with Spirit Stones once more."

"What of it?"

"I believe that they could be used as a weapon against the Rot and the King. The elders have dispatched me to seek the Stones out and use them to cleanse the corruption from the kingdom."

"You believe you can do this?"

"Yes. But not alone." Sana held a hand out to Brun, "Will you aid me, brother?"

Brun shrugged, drained his cup and pushed himself to his feet. "Fine. Let me gather some provisions for the journey. But I'll tell you this: if this plan of yours doesn't work then I will slay the King. Or die trying."

Sana smiled as she doused the fire and stood, "Agreed."

* * *

Thane stretched as he strolled along the roughly cobbled street that wound through Deepwell. The small farming town sat on the edge of Wolf Clan territory. He turned to walk backwards while he addressed River, "May as well rest here for the night."

"I'd rather sleep somewhere away from town." She replied, "We're still wanted fugitives."

Thane shrugged, "In the centre of the kingdom, sure. We can lay low out here."

River sighed, "Just keep your guard up. The King could have spies anywhere."

"Relax." Thane said with a grin, "This is Wolf Clan ground. The people here won't bother us." He pushed open a door beneath a vibrantly painted sign that declared the tavern's name as _The War Banner_ and strode boldly inside. They were immediately met by a blast of warm air, the scent of ale and roast meat, and raucous cackles.

Glancing around, Thane noticed that the tavern wasn't particularly busy; most of the noise seemed to be coming from one table surrounded by a gaggle of wiry looking stoats. He crossed the room, dodging a short hedgehog barmaid as she scurried past with a tray of drinks. The bar was manned by a grizzled, one eyed pit bull in a dirty apron.

Thane placed a few coins on the bar, "Two ales. And a room for the night."

The barkeep gave a curt nod, wordlessly scooping the gold into a pocket.

Thane went to join River, who had seated herself at a table in the darkest corner of the room. He dropped into a chair beside her. "Like I said, no problems." River didn't answer, just gave him a sideways glance before fixing her attention back on the rowdy stoats. Her fingers tapped slowly on the table, with a sharp _click-click_ of claws on wood.

A couple of minutes passed before the barmaid Thane had seen earlier came to deliver their drinks. As Thane raised the foaming tankard to his lips he couldn't help noticing the hedgehog fidgeting oddly. She backed a few paces away from their table, shot a nervous glance at the stoats and spun on her heel. She gave one last worried look back over her shoulder before hurrying away.

Thane swallowed, placing the tankard back down softly, as if it were fragile glass. "Strange." He felt River's hand tighten on his knee, looking at her quickly before following her gaze to the other table.

One of the stoats, who looked like the leader of their group, raised a tankard and cheered loudly, "To our good fortune lads!" He drank deeply, followed by his companions. "Would you believe? A stay of execution and a pardon from the King, all to hunt down one poxy wolf brat."

"Must be desperate to empty the royal dungeons for one fugitive."

"No matter, the bounty's good as ours!" This spurred another peal of cheers and laughter.

Thane slumped lower in his chair with a sigh, "Damn..."

"I warned you." River whispered.

"They haven't noticed us."

"They're going to notice us."

"Have they noticed us?"

As River continued watching the stoats one glanced her way. They locked eyes, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, eyes widening. "They've noticed us."

Thane never saw the huntress nock or draw; one moment she was sitting beside him, the next she was on her feet. An arrow sprouted from the stoat's eye socket, his body jerked and his chair toppled backwards with a crash.

There was a shriek as the hedgehog ducked behind the bar, the big pit bull next to her reaching for something under the counter.

"Fuck!" The other stoats spun to face the wolves, leaping to their feet and grasping for weapons.

"Down!" River kicked their table onto its side, sending their drinks flying. She crouched, pulling Thane down beside her, just as a bottle shattered against the table and was quickly followed by two knives and a small hatchet, which all buried themselves in the wood with a staccato series of heavy thuds.

River caught Thane's gaze and jerked her head sharply toward the table's edge. " _One_ day without someone trying to kill me..." Thane grunted. He drew his bastard sword and rolled over the table, landing in a crouch on the other side. One of the stoats had rushed forward with a club; he tried to stop as Thane appeared before him, but the wolf swept his sword around as he rose, nearly slicing his attacker in half. The stoat's momentum kept him travelling forward as he stumbled, and he crashed head first into the table.

Thane flicked blood from his blade, moving forward with the easy confidence of a practiced swordsman. The next stoat came at him with a pair of daggers, attacking with a pouncing stab. Thane easily batted the dagger aside and countered, his strike deflected in turn. The wolf followed up with a shoulder charge and a heavy overhead swing. His opponent managed to catch the blow between his blades, but Thane twisted the sword, knocking both weapons out of the stoat's hands.

The stoat fell backwards with a gasp, rolling back to his feet, he came up holding a wooden round shield snatched from the corpse that River had shot. He clutched the shield by its rim, holding it out in front of him. Thane snarled, gripping his sword with both hands and lunging, driving the blade straight through the shield and into the stoat's throat.

A third attacker came from Thane's blind spot, hefting a bar stool. Before he could swing his improvised weapon River cannoned into his side with a forceful kick. The stoat doubled over, the stool clattering to the floor. With a graceful twirl River was behind him. There was a flash of steel as her hunting knife slid from its sheath and with swift, rapid strikes plunged into the stoat's thigh, back and shoulder. He dropped with a pained gurgle.

Thane turned to see last stoat already backing toward the door. He jumped onto the top of the closest table, launched off it, and planted a knee with all his weight behind it into the middle of the stoat's chest. The stoat was knocked backwards through the door, which splintered from its frame beneath him.

He scrambled back to his feet, looking wildly from side to side. "You'll regret this! Your whole damn clan is going to burn for what you've done! Bastard, whoreson, mutt!" He turned tail and began fleeing along the road into the growing darkness.

Thane sheathed his sword as River joined him in the doorway. "Well?"

The huntress raised her bow and drew back on the string. Thane heard the soft hiss of her breath and admired her form; body and bow both held still as a statue as she sighted down the arrow at her ever shrinking target. Her breath exploded from her lungs as she loosed the arrow. The bowstring sang and the arrow vanished, reappearing half a second later as it skewered the retreating stoat through the neck. His legs instantly went out from under him and he tumbled into the mud before rolling to a halt.

River shouldered her bow, "So?"

"So you were right..." Thane grumbled, rolling his eyes, "And I don't much care for it." He turned away, scooping up a tankard that had fallen near the door. He inspected it with a critical eye for a moment before throwing his head back and gulping down what was left of its contents. "So..." He held the empty tankard out to River, "Your round?"


	9. Chapter 9- Reunions

**Reunions**

Amber scribbled her name across the bottom of the decree that lay on her desk. She used a candle to melt a drop of gold wax onto the parchment and stamped it with the King's seal, then placed it in a pile with the others. She sat back with a deep sigh, rubbing the back of her neck.

There was a knock at the door and a moment later it swung open. "Lady Amber?" In the doorway stood a somewhat morose looking frog page boy dressed in a tunic bearing Rabbit Clan livery.

"Guppy, what is it?"

"Pardon ma'am, but there's a pair of visitors for you down in the solar. Say they just arrived from Skytower."

"Skytower?" Amber frowned and began hurriedly putting away her things. "I'll see them at once."

Guppy waited patiently while Amber retrieved her chain of office; lowering it over her ears and neck, and then closed the door to her private chambers behind her as she bustled out into the hallway.

She gave a brief wave of dismissal to the guard posted outside her door as he made to follow her and the hound snapped to attention before returning to his position leaning idly against the wall. Amber was convinced that he was there less for her safety than to keep an eye on her. She had to constantly remind herself to act as if nothing was wrong as she went about her duties. She couldn't afford to raise suspicions.

Guppy quickly trotted ahead of Amber and led the way down the hall. As she walked Amber wondered just who had arrived to meet with her. The pair descended a spiral staircase to the next floor down and Guppy pushed through another pair of doors, smartly stepping aside as he announced Amber. "Lady Amber Valebriar, Farseeker of the Rabbit Clan, Steward to the King of Armello."

Amber entered the room and faltered, surprised by what she saw. Elyssia stood near the round table in the middle of the solar, wearing a neutral expression. In one hand she held the _Architect_ warhammer; a thick oak and gilt staff topped with a large, ornate protractor, a ceremonial weapon and symbol of her station.

Beside the Wardress was a second figure, leaning casually against the table with their back to Amber and gazing around at the old weapons and tapestries that adorned the walls. This second person was only half as tall as Elyssia, and made to look ludicrously broad by the suit of thick, gilded armour they wore. Amber could make out russet fur in places that the armour didn't cover; the legs, left arm, and long, floppy ears that sprouted from the back of the figure's bascinet helm. On the small knight's back was a large pack and bedroll; thrust through the shoulder straps was a crudely carved tree branch, from the end of which swung a lantern. One hand, encased within a huge lobstered gauntlet, clutched the leather wrapped haft of a hammer that was as tall as the figure wielding it, resting lazily on one shoulder. It was topped by a spiked head of wrought iron with two hexagonal faces.

The shorter figure turned as Amber entered and waved to her excitedly. "Hey Amber!" The voice echoed hollowly inside the helmet. He waddled, clattering and clanking, toward her. One finger raised the helmet's visor with a quiet squeak, revealing Barnaby's face, "How've ya been?"

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Amber had dismissed Guppy and the three rabbits now sat alone at the table. "Florian would be furious." She glared in Barnaby's direction, her young cousin seeming to shrink into his armour.

"I accept full responsibility, my lady." Elyssia inclined her head in a small bow of humility, "My place is by Lord Barnaby's side. Your lord uncle had commanded me to take him to Deepwarren but I couldn't, in good conscience, leave you here alone. I know I've defied his orders in coming here, but bringing Barnaby with me was all I could do to honour my duty."

"I'd expect better of you Elyssia." Amber said coldly.

Barnaby shook his head, "It's not her fault! I was the one who wanted to see you, I made Elyssia come with me. If you want to blame someone then blame me."

"Be quiet Barnaby!" Amber spat. Barnaby dropped his gaze to the tabletop, looking hurt. Amber continued, "You should have known how dangerous it was to take him out in the kingdom, let alone bring him here of all places."

Barnaby glanced up again with an obstinate scowl, "I'm not a child anymore Amber! Look," He gestured to indicate his armour and the hammer that leaned against his chair, "I made all this myself, I know this stuff better than anyone. I've been trained to fight just like you were, just ask her!" He jerked a thumb at Elyssia who remained motionless, staring at her hands. "Besides, father had already fought in the Rot War by the time he was my age, he should trust me to be able to handle myself."

"He was a squire, not heir to the clan! This isn't the same at all." Amber rested her elbows on the table, rubbing her eyes. "I ought to send you under guard to Deepwarren where you belong. And you," She turned back to Elyssia, "Back to Skytower to report to Florian. I don't imagine that he'll be particularly lenient, but perhaps if you're lucky he isn't yet aware of what you've done."

Elyssia's chair nearly fell backwards as she bolted to her feet, slamming both hands on the table and finally meeting Amber's eyes, "Damn it Amber, you don't have to do this alone! We both came here because we were concerned for your safety. Did you even think about how much danger you're putting yourself in? As Wardress I have a duty to protect you too. How am I supposed to feel if my charge-my friend-was killed and I was powerless to do anything?"

Amber sat back, shocked by Elyssia's sudden outburst. Barnaby gulped, eyes flicking between both women. The room fell silent for a long time.

Elyssia exhaled slowly, "I apologise, Lady Amber...I await your command." She dropped back into her chair.

Amber raised her hand, "Enough." She sighed, "...Thank you. Both of you. I never meant to worry you. But I didn't wish to risk your safety either."

"Amber, what's really going on here?" Barnaby asked nervously, "Something's...wrong out in the kingdom. We keep hearing strange rumours."

"The King is unwell. It's..." Amber looked away, hesitating, "It's the Rot."

Barnaby's eyes went wide and Elyssia thumped a fist against the table, "Damn it all. So our worst fears have come to pass."

Amber nodded gravely. "His body has become twisted; he's constantly wracked by pain and has an aversion to sunlight. It seems he grows weaker by the day. But more than that, it's also warped his mind. He's become paranoid and cruel. The orders and laws he imposes every day..." She shook her head, "It's inexcusable, and it couldn't be further from the man he once was. Worst of all, nobody does anything. He's surrounded by brutes and cowards, and everyone acts like nothing's wrong." She buried her face in her hands with a groan, "And I keep feeling like I'm the worst of them for going along with it all."

Elyssia reached across to place a hand on her friend's shoulder. "There's nothing else you can do Amber. If you defy him then you only put yourself at risk. If you were to die then you cannot help anyone."

Barnaby nodded, "She's right, none of this is your fault."

Amber ran a hand through her fur, breathing deeply as she composed herself. "Right...you're right." She looked between the other two with a weak smile, "Thank you, both of you. This whole ordeal has been rather stressful. I haven't been able to just say what I feel since I arrived in the capital."

"That's why we're here." Barnaby stressed, "We can help you now. So what's the plan? What do you need us to do?"

Amber sighed heavily, "At the moment there's not much we _can_ do...My only plan so far has been to just wait for the King to succumb to his illness. Without an heir to succeed him control of the kingdom would fall to me as his Steward. Once I hold the throne I'll push to place the Rabbit Clan at the head of the royal court."

"So my father will be king..." Barnaby mumbled, scratching behind one ear.

Elyssia crossed her arms, nodding thoughtfully. "And with that political power we could pacify the other clans diplomatically, without sparking a war, and guide Armello into a new golden age under rabbit rule."

"That's the best we can hope for." Amber agreed.

"Then I will do what I can to protect you until that day."

"Me too." Barnaby clasped Amber's hand, grinning widely. "Besides, if my escort's staying here it's not like I can leave the city. Father can't complain about it then."

Amber chuckled softly, "Everything always seems much simpler when you're around, Screwloose." She ruffled the fur between his ears and glanced from him to Elyssia. "I appreciate your offer of assistance. And I accept."

* * *

Night had fallen thick and heavy over Briarcrest. The moon was bright in a clear sky, lighting up the rolling blanket of fog that clung close to the ground. Nights like this were common in the humid, marshy lands of the Rat Clan capital. The air was filled with the usual chorus of rat nightlife; boisterous revelry, gambling and whoring in the scattered oases of bright light and vibrant colour, overlaying the sounds of murder and robbery in the city's darker corners.

And high above the streets a different sound, a light patter tracing a snaking path across the rooftops. A formless shadow dashing and dancing unseen from cover to cover, avoiding the city's lights and the prying eyes of its people. It eventually alighted on the roof of its destination; a building in the lower quarter. This building looked much like the ones surrounding it, squat and blocky, overlooking narrow, cramped alleyways. All old smoke stained stone and sun bleached wood. Somewhat larger but otherwise unassuming. And seemingly abandoned from the look of its dark, boarded up windows and barred doors.

The shadow paused for a moment before popping open a small hatch and dropping into the room beneath. The building's interior was pitch black. There was a soft thud as something landed on bare flagstones, followed by silence for several heart beats. Then the slow shuffling of something picking its way carefully through the dark. There was a low whisper, then a clash of steel on steel and a shower of sparks was thrown into the air. For just a split second the flash provided some illumination. Indistinct shapes. Figures circling. A glint of blades.

The room erupted into a cacophony of imperceptible movement. Footsteps raced on all sides across the floor and walls, accompanied by the heavy thuds of sharp impacts, grunts of exertion and pain. All the while the dull whoosh of sweeping blades, intersected by the crash and clatter of them striking. Every clash and splash of light produced a staccato of still images as the combatants danced and whirled in their pitched melee.

Eventually the sounds of battle were punctuated by a tinkling laugh, followed by a loud crash and a shrill cry that was quickly choked off. One last clash of blade against blade, then the whistle of steel slicing air and a sharp gasp.

Silence once more, then a voice cut through the darkness. "I think that's quite enough."

A lamp was uncovered, filling the room with warm, orange light. The room was small, bare stone. Most of the space was taken up by stacks of crates of barrels, with vicious looking bear traps dotted around between them. Zosha stood, grinning, one foot planted firmly on the throat of one assailant. Her twin falchions were locked together at their pommels into a double bladed glaive. The tip of one bladed was aimed at the chest of the floored assassin, the other rested at the neck of her companion.

The two attackers were both rat girls, a little younger than Zosha herself. They were dressed similarly to her but in lightly armoured brigandines and black, hooded masks that showed only their eyes. They each carried a broad bladed, double edged shortsword with a single quillon crossguard.

"Sister." Zosha's standing opponent, who had uncovered the lamp, stepped back and sheathed her sword. Zosha uncoupled her own swords and returned them to her belt, allowing the other rat to stand.

She scrambled to her feet, coughing and rubbing her throat. "The way you were moving around, I thought you'd lost your edge."

"Never let down your guard around an enemy." Zosha said, "Assassins will often try to lull you into a false sense of security."

"Apologies sister. We will try harder in future." Both rats bowed.

Zosha waved dismissively. "Go find your relief and take a break. I must report to mother."

She stalked through the gloomy, decrepit hallways of the old building, passing a few other rats along the way. Most were dressed in the same uniform as the two guards at the entrance, all of them young women. Zosha worked her way downwards until she came to the cellar and a solitary door of thick, black iron. Another guard stood by the door. She glanced Zosha up and down before knocking on the door with an intricate pattern of placement, timing and force. A moment later there was a series of clicks, scrapes and rattles from the other side, and the door swung open.

The room within was wide and long. The walls were lost in darkness, as was the ceiling; two rows of stone pillars vanishing into inky black shadows above. The only light came from four lamps that lined the rear wall. There was another doorway there, concealed behind a black, gauzy curtain, but Zosha's target sat in front of it. On a raised dais, littered with dusty furs, rugs and cushions, was a large chaise sofa; ebony wood decorated with gold and rubies, and upholstered in crushed red velvet. It was so old and worn that any sense of finery it had was lost many years ago. Six Night Sisters knelt motionless before the dais, heads bowed and eyes closed as if in prayer.

Lounging on the chaise, propped up on a pile of pillows, was the oldest rat Zosha had ever laid eyes on. The old woman was stick thin and shrivelled like a raisin, her stringy fur grey and patchy. She was dressed rather plainly in a black dress and as she lay there, statuesque, Zosha could have believed she looked upon a corpse, were it not for the rhythmic rasp of her breath and the slow tapping of long fingernails on an armrest. A veil covered her face but Zosha could sense her eyes, sightless though they were, milky white and piercing.

This was the woman Zosha had dedicated her life and service to. The only thing she loved and source of all the love she ever needed. The only family she had ever known. The Night Mother.

Zosha strode to the dais and knelt at the foot of the chaise. "Mother."

The Night Mother took a slow, shaky breath. "Zosha, my dearest child." Her voice was a dry whisper, like the rustling of pages in an old book. She extended one tremulous hand. Zosha clasped it gently, kissed it and held the fingers to her cheek for a moment. Her skin was cold, her hand bony. It felt fragile, like a bird. "What news do you bring me?"

"I have met with the good baron, as you asked. I've ascertained his intentions and how he plans to go about them."

"Go on, my sweet."

"It's just as you said, mother. The Order of the Thorn dispatched Mercurio at the head of a small group. Their target was apparently some no-name Rot cultist bearing an intriguing relic that had caught the Wolf Clan's attention."

"Though his companions returned to the Order empty handed and without Mercurio."

"I gather they chose to abandon their mission and report back on the King's increasingly erratic behaviour. Mercurio, however, was not so inclined. I believe he's gone rogue and is acting purely in his own self interest."

The Night Mother chuckled softly to herself. "Mercurio turning on the Order and the Council could be just the shake up our clan needs. If nothing else it will certainly be entertaining."

Zosha grimaced slightly, "I'm not sure that's wise, mother. He's given himself over to the Rot. He plans to to use it as a weapon to strike down the King and seize the throne. I feel he's become dangerous and unpredictable. If he were to wield that kind of power and turn it against the clan-"

The Night Mother held up a hand to silence her. "Mercurio can not be allowed to rule. Though his new found strength may prove useful as a route to the throne. That is why you will join with him, for the time being."

Zosha glanced up, "And what of the Rot?"

"I know you will do what you must to fulfill your mission, child. Though the path he walks may be dark and bloody, you will follow him upon it. Deceive, coerce, cajole and seduce. Earn his trust, join his quest, and when the time comes..." Her hand tightened into a fist, "End him."

Zosha bowed her head, "I will do as you command, mother."

"I know you will, Zosha dear." She placed her hand atop Zosha's head and slowly stroked one finger over her ear. "Bring me Ariel's crown and you will rule Armello by my side, my ever loyal child. Go now, before the dawn. The night watches and the night hears all."


End file.
